Weak Points
by colouredred
Summary: "This city is so strange," she muttered, decided, "It almost makes me feel alive again." / Hikari Shibata moves in to the old apartment of her recently deceased brother. She seems an easy puzzle for her neighbour, Shizuo Heiwajima, to figure out, until more and more of their weak points are uncovered, illuminated by the neon lights of Ikebukuro. Shizuo Heiwajima/OC
1. one

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Durarara!'. All OCs are mine.**

* * *

 _weak points /_ _ONE_

The cigarette burned between his fingers, pressed to his lips as he drew in a long, deep breath. He kept his lips pressed tightly together, keeping the toxins at bay as he let his hand fall to his side. For a moment he waited, quiet and patient, before at last exhaling heavily. Smoke curled up before his eyes, while the cigarette slipped from his fingers and landed on the ground – his one last hit.

Shizuo Heiwajima crushed glowing butt with his heel, smothering it against the sidewalk of an Ikebukuro street. As he had stood smoking in front of the apartment building, dressed in the usual bartender suit and paying little attention to anyone else, he was surprisingly nondescript. No stranger could have pegged him as the strongest man in Ikebukuro, which was the way Shizuo preferred it.

When the smoke was at last pushed from his lungs, Shizuo turned sharply to face the building behind him. It towered over him with its seven stories, all polished glass and metal glinting in the afternoon sun. When he entered inside, letting the door slam shut behind him, Shizuo felt as though he had welcomed himself home.

That was certainly how he thought of the place. Even though his apartment was small, it had everything he needed and suited him just fine. So long as he made very little noise, and he usually upheld that, there were no complaints from his neighbours. In fact, Shizuo might even go so far as to say he had made friends there.

There was, that he knew of, one who he would have counted close to him. His neighbour, Ryuji Shibata, was a blunt-tongued young man with an unshakeable demeanour. He made the perfect, practical companion to waste time with – or he had used to.

Ryuji wasn't around much anymore, on account of his recent death.

Shizuo could feel his mood souring at the reminder. It wasn't like he could have stopped it from happening, but there was no reason he shouldn't be bitter about the sudden change in his life. Where that man had once been, the moments walking past his apartment door and in the late hours of the night, was now rather lonely. Shizuo preferred not to think about Ryuji Shibata very much these days.

Shizuo's footsteps echoed down the hallway. Seven doors to the right, and he would be home. There, he could take up a seat on the couch and open a new packet of cigarettes. He wondered how they would taste if he drank a glass of milk in between.

Just before his door, however, Shizuo found himself pulling short. Six doors to the right was Ryuji's apartment, and with him being a dead man, the door should have been shut and locked – so why was it wide open?

He couldn't shake his curiosity. In a few steps, Shizuo found himself standing before the door. His hand reached for the golden doorknob, fingers curling through the gap between the door and its frame. At the odd chance this was a robbery, Shizuo refrained from calling out and instead invited himself inside in silence.

The layout mirrored his own apartment, with a short hall that led to an open kitchen and living area. The kitchen was to the left, island bench the only barrier between that and the carpeted lounge to the right.

He took one step inside, pulling off his sunglasses and letting his eyes adjust to the dark, before spotting the intruder. A young woman moving around from the couch to the kitchen caught his eye, her pale skin standing out in the dim light.

She stilled as her hands reached for the laptop on the bench, her gaze sliding towards him. Like sunlight through green leaves, her eyes were bright and curious as they peered at him from behind the dark curtain of her hair. A hand pushed the black locks behind her ear, her hair reaching no longer than her shoulder, before she pursued her lips in question.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked.

Shizuo felt his eyebrow jerk upwards. "Who the hell are _you_?"

She continued to stare, expression blank. The shadows in the room sharpened her features, cheeks he could tell were usually soft and eyes accentuated by makeup and arching brows. Looking at her felt like looking at the memory of something else he couldn't quite recall.

"This is Ryuji's place." Shizuo told her shortly, not bothering to explain further.

She caught his meaning anyway. "You know Ryu?" She paused, reconsidering. "…Or, _knew_ him, I should say."

"I live next door."

The woman smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, come inside then." She ordered friendlily.

She waved to him, convincing Shizuo to take a few steps closer. He hadn't been inside Ryuji's apartment since news of his death, and he hadn't really wanted to. It seemed this woman had just arrived, as there were four suitcases on the floor and none of Ryuji's stuff had yet to be touched.

Shizuo turned his gaze back to her, peering closely at her. The woman stared right back at him, nonplussed, and Shizuo blurted out a question before he could stop himself. "Have we met before?"

The dark haired woman smiled sweetly, almost teasingly. "I think I would have remembered meeting you," she replied coyly, "Perhaps I seem familiar because I look a bit like Ryuji – I'm his sister, actually."

Shizuo shrugged. "He didn't mention you."

"Probably not." The woman agreed, glancing away briefly before turning back to him. She held out her hand this time and said, "Hikari Shibata. Pleasure to meet you."

Shizuo, after a moment's hesitation, shook her hand quickly. "Shizuo Heiwajima," he introduced, "Nice to meet you too."

 _"Is_ it?" Now it was his turn to stare. Hikari observed his reaction without a change in her own expression, not even so much as a blink. A smile played at her lips before she finally went on to explain, "You just found a strange woman inside the apartment of a dead man. You admitted you've never heard of me before, which means I could really be anyone at all."

"You're Ryuji's sister," Shizuo objected, "You said that yourself."

"I could be lying. And even at that point, aren't you curious that I've showed up and moved in here now, of all times? Ryu only died a couple of weeks ago."

Once again, Shizuo shrugged with his usual nonchalance. "It's none of my business." He figured. She called Ryuji 'Ryu' after all, which had to mean something.

Her laughter burst from her lips, so sudden that Shizuo found himself tensing. It rung in the silence of the apartment, lilting and songlike, and he wondered if it was genuine. Hikari looked like the type of woman to act the part of someone she wasn't.

"You're funny, Shizuo," Hikari giggled, "I feel like you and my brother would have gotten along well."

"I guess we did. I helped him find his way around when he first moved here."

"So you've lived in Ikebukuro for a while?" Hikari wondered, "What's it like?"

"You get used to all the shit that happens, just like any other place."

"Like any other place?"

"Yeah."

Hikari smiled playfully. "You're not doing a good job of selling Ikebukuro to me."

"Am I meant to?" Shizuo asked, a little taken aback. She talked to him as if he was the strange one, when he really thought it was the opposite.

"Wouldn't hurt," Hikari admitted, "But you don't have to."

Shizuo opened his mouth to reply, scouring for some sort of coherent reply, before a sudden ringing cut him off. Their eyes shot towards the bench in unison, narrowing in on the phone. The screen was bright, noisily vibrating against the wood. It rang for a good half a minute, and the entire time, all they did was stare at it in silence.

When the call went to voicemail, the home screen switching to display, Shizuo could glimpse the seven other missed calls she had from the same number.

Hikari turned to him as if nothing had happened. "Well," she began again, "With someone like you here, I guess Ikebukuro should prove to be very interesting."

"I don't know if that's a compliment."

"You can take it whatever way you want." Hikari told him, shrugging lightly.

She didn't hesitate to turn away from him, continuing on her business as if he wasn't even there. She moved quietly around, from a suitcase and back to the kitchen. In hand, she held a laptop charger which she left in a tangle beside her laptop.

Shizuo, accepting this as a form of conclusion, turned around and began to leave. He made it halfway down the hall when a budding thought forced him to stiffen and turn back to her.

His attention caught her gaze, and Hikari stared wide-eyed as he bowed his head towards her.

"I never did say," He told her, voice dull has he forced back his own bitter emotions, "Sorry about your brother. That he died, I mean."

"You don't have to apologise for something like that," Hikari told him, hiding a smile behind her hand, "Not like it's _your_ fault, is it?"

Shizuo shook his head, marking an end to the conversation. He continued on his way out, fingers itching to reach into his pocket. He needed that next cigarette now, something to smoke while he thought over his meeting with this strange woman.

"Oh!" Hikari exclaimed from behind him, making him glance back, "It was Heiwajima, wasn't it?"

"Shizuo Heiwajima." He repeated, hand on the door handle.

Hikari nodded. "How do you spell it?"

It was an odd request, but it wasn't like it would do him any harm. "H-E-I-W-A-J-I-M-A." Shizuo answered.

She smiled sweetly, before turning away towards the bench. Shizuo, still looking at her, allowed his eyes to travel down her profile. Dark hair fell forward over his eyes, her back arching as she lifted herself over the bench and reached for something unknown to him. She _was_ strange, he decided, but not all that bad.

He fixed his expression, recovering himself in a single breath, and accidently slammed the door shut on his way out.

Hikari glanced down her hall, her eyes roaming the floors that blonde man had just walked. Her lips quirked into a strange shape, before she turned and leant her forearms against the cool bench top before her.

She held a pen between her fingers, the tip pressed to a notepad as she let out a small sigh.

She smiled as she scribbled the note, careful to check that her spelling was correct. "Shizuo Heiwajima, huh?"

* * *

 **At this point, all I can promise is consistent updates and a slow-burning romance (or as slow as you can get when the fic is only ~21 chapters long). You'll have to judge the plot and writing for yourselves ;)**

 **Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you review!**

 **(forewarning: I might not always reply because I'm fucking shit, but that doesn't mean I don't love you or appreciate your feedback/criticism)**


	2. two

_weak points / TWO_

Her boots landed with a dull thud, a clamour far too loud for the stillness of her apartment. Every sound echoed, off walls and photos layered in a dust she feared to disturb. It seemed too long for such a short amount of time, yet Hikari Shibata had been living in Ikebukuro for a week.

She liked to mark the days from there, from that change in her life. It was far easier to think about that than it was to admit it was now three weeks since her brother had died. There was one bright side to the situation – at least Ryuji Shibata hadn't died inside the apartment he passed on to his sister. Hikari couldn't have stood to live in a murder scene, though the memorial she had made from Ryuji's home was not far from it.

Hikari fiddled with the zipper on her boots, distracting herself for a moment. For the first time in a few days, she had showered, done her makeup and hair, and even dressed herself modestly. The least she could do was look around the city her brother had loved so much.

After zipping up the boots, careful not to topple in the chunky heels, she rolled the hem of her jeans and up before straightening her button-up shirt. It was just for a short walk, she had decided, so Hikari only needed to grab her phone and some loose change before she made her way outside.

The hallway outside was colder than she expected, and Hikari wondered if she should really be cooping herself up like she was. Even if she kept busy inside, the repercussions on her health could become a problem if she ever decided to return to work. Without her manager around keeping her in shape, making sure she was eating right, Hikari could easily find herself slipping back into bad habits.

She had already faced temptation at the lingering smell of cigarettes. She was pretty sure that her neighbour, Shizuo Heiwajima, was the reason that smell clung to their hallway.

After some research, Hikari could only place a question mark next to his name. She had learned of his reputation as the strongest man in Ikebukuro, the infamous strength that eye witnesses claimed had demolished street signs and public property. She liked the idea, but that man had seemed a little thin to be pulling off such feats of strength.

Hikari reached the front entrance of the complex at last, after travelling three flights of stairs. The glass doors were cool against her fingers when she pushed on them, a warm breeze sweeping her hair back from her face as she moved outside.

Hikari winced at the sudden sunlight, moving out into the street and blinking rapidly. Distracted, stepping sideways to miss being hit by the shutting door, Hikari found herself bumping into some tall, unyielding object. A sidelong glance, squinting upwards, told her it was a person.

"Oh! Sorry!" she exclaimed, bowing her head.

"It's no problem." The man said, sounding as though he were smiling.

Hikari peered up once more, taking in his appearance. His skin was tan, his hair matted, while he looked down at her through a pair of square-framed glasses. Though he didn't look to be too formal, the suit he wore seemed very business-like and Hikari had to wonder just what kind of a job this man had.

Now used to the midday sun, Hikari's eyes turned to her surroundings. Ikebukuro was bursting at the seams with activity. Cars roaring past, people talking as they passed by on the sidewalk. It was the lunchtime peak, and a city brimming with life was something Hikari desperately wanted to explore.

As her gaze slipped past the stranger, it landed on a more familiar face behind him. Hikari, recognising the second man present, smiled at him and said, "Nice to see you again, Shizuo Heiwajima."

The tall blond, leaning against the side of the building, was about as inconspicuous as one could get in a bartender suit. Shizuo stood with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a smoke. Had she not known him to be who he was, Hikari might never have given him a second glance. It was remarkable how infamous he seemed to be in local, online circles.

"I thought you were dead." Shizuo replied gruffly.

"Hm? Why's that?"

The other man stood to the side, content to watch them talk. It wasn't often Shizuo made new acquaintances.

Shizuo tapped the cigarette on his finger, knocking the ashes off. "Seemed like you hadn't left your apartment in a few days. Very quiet."

"You're making assumptions about me. I'm just not a very noisy person," Hikari argued, before remembering the man she had run into and turning to him. She offered him her hand a short introduction, "I'm Hikari Shibata, by the way."

The dark haired man nodded, taking her hand gently and shaking it. "Tom Tanaka." He replied in turn, studying her carefully. Feeling daring, he added, "How do you know Shizuo?"

"Neighbours," she replied cheerfully, "I just moved here this week."

He thought of the two apartments beside Shizuo's, and only one empty one came to mind. "You're staying in Ryuji's old place." Tom remarked before he could stop himself.

"She's his sister." Shizuo interjected bluntly. As always, his explanations were brief and to the point. Hikari liked him for it.

"His sister?" Tom echoed, frowning, "I didn't know Ryuji had a sister."

"Guess he really didn't talk about me…" Hikari muttered, pouting. It was easier to play off her hurt has a joke, rather than admitting that hearing so caused her any kind of real pain.

"He didn't really talk about a lot unless you asked him." Tom reminded her, his voice soft as if to comfort Hikari in the exact way she sought to avoid.

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing the dark strands back from her eyes. She wore a curious smile, green eyes bright with amusement. "I know." She said, and the glint disappeared from her eyes and she went back to her usual polite smile. "Oh, but I'm sure you have other things to be doing as well," she realised, "Better than standing around talking to me, anyway."

"About to start work," Shizuo agreed, and before she could ask what their jobs were, he added, "What about you?"

"Going for a walk," Hikari answered simply, "Although, I have to ask, are there any places I should definitely check out in Ikebukuro?"

"First time here, huh?" Tom guessed rightly, "You could visit the aquarium or one of those indoor theme parks."

Hikari shook her head, rephrasing her question. "Something less tourist-y, I mean. Like, where do you go to eat and things like that?"

"Oh. That would have to be… _Russia Sushi_?"

" _Russia Sushi_? Shouldn't it be _Russian Sushi_?" Hikari paused, pressed a finger to her lips before laughing shortly, "I could probably end up liking it here after all."

Shizuo simply stared at her, taking her in. This was his second meeting with her, but he was sure that her skin seemed a little paler than the first. Even her eyes did not pierce him with the same sharpness, and all that makeup couldn't hide the dark circles underneath them.

She smiled on obliviously, bowing her head. "It was nice to meet you, Tom Tanaka. Shizuo Heiwajima, I look forward to seeing you around."

Though he wished she'd shorten his name to something that sounded less strange, Shizuo accepted the farewell regardless. He waved his hand slightly, ignoring the ashes that fell from the burning end of the cigarette still pinched between his fingers.

Her figure was quick to retreat into the crowd, leaving only the impression of her passing. The swing of her hips and the soft veil of her hair lingered in his mind, before Shizuo pushed those thoughts aside as Tom turned to face him.

"Let's go." The dark haired man ordered, marching past Shizuo in the opposite direction to Hikari.

Shizuo followed wordlessly. As he took his first step, he flicked the cigarette away and crushed it under his shoe.

They walked in silence for a moment, Tom leading and Shizuo trailing a few steps behind, before the silence was broken by an abrupt, "She's cute, don't you think?"

Shizuo stared ahead, confused. "Huh?"

"Ryuji's sister," Tom clarified, "Do you think she's cute?"

The blond man wondered what could possibly be going through Tom's head. "She's a little weird, but I guess so…" Shizuo admitted, testing his friend's reaction, "But do you get the feeling you've seen her before?"

Tom chewed his lip, resisting the urge to sigh. Trying to get Shizuo to recognise a woman, hoping that he might take an interest in anyone at all, might even be beyond Tom's limits.

"Do you know if she's single?" Tom asked.

"Why? Do you wanna ask her out?"

"No, not my type," Tom objected after a moment's consideration, "Do _you_ want to?"

He had the feeling that Shizuo shrugged, though he really couldn't see. "I don't know her."

"That's not really an answer." Tom muttered under his breath. Still, it wasn't a _no_ , and that had to warrant some confidence. Maybe Shizuo's romantic senses weren't as dead as he had thought.

The topic died there, Tom resigning himself to the answer he hadn't really received. He shoved one hand into his pocket as he walked, rolling his shoulders. The sun shone down on Ikebukuro that day, promising clear skies and warmer weather. It wasn't until a few steps later that Tom realised he had lost his shadow, glancing behind to find Shizuo had stopped walking.

"I'm just going to check something." Shizuo declared, before walking into the store he had been facing.

Tom took a few steps backwards, squinting through the large glass window out front. It was a general store, stacked with a few aisles of groceries, magazines, and other assorted items. Through the glare of the sun, Tom spotted Shizuo making his way past the newspapers and riffling through the magazine stacks.

At some point, flicking through a particular magazine, Shizuo paused. His lips were pressed together in deep thought, before he turned to the window and pointed at an image Tom couldn't make out.

Following Shizuo inside, bell above the door chiming, Tom met his friend inside the store.

"Look," Shizuo declared, shoving the magazine to his face, "This explains why I thought Shibata looked familiar."

Tom leaned away from the paper shoved aggressively before him, a hand on his glasses to make sure he was seeing things right. It was an advert for skin cream, with the model holding the bottle in her hands. Vibrant green eyes looked out from underneath arching brows, a face heavy with makeup that left no place for softness in her cheeks.

However, even despite the distortion, there was no mistaking that the model was the very same Hikari Shibata he had been introduced to minutes ago.

"So she's a model." Tom said, collecting himself. With the way Hikari looked, it shouldn't have come as the surprise it was.

"Yeah." That was all Shizuo had to say on the matter, before he shoved the magazine back into the stand.

The blond man walked away as if meant nothing to him, but Tom knew him better than appearances. He had learned, long ago, how to read between the lines. Whatever else Shizuo might have to say about this woman, he at least found her remarkable enough to remember her face out of the million others he passed each day. Tom had to wonder, if maybe – just _maybe_ – this Hikari Shibata wasn't a consequence of chance after all.

* * *

 **I'm thinking that updates will probably be weekly from here on - I just like to upload the first two chapters asap to get the ball rolling.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. three

_weak points / THREE_

When Shizuo left his apartment that morning, it was with heavy sigh and an ache in his arm. He was sure that the skin had bruised overnight, coloured purple and yellow by now. It was a strange feeling, as he wasn't often used to being bruised – often, he was the one giving others bruises – but not even the indestructible Shizuo Heiwajima could be hit with a car and escape entirely unscathed.

He scowled at the thought of last night's chase with Izaya, who was someone, and which was something, of a normality in his life. Maybe he should take this as a lesson to be more careful when racing of highways, although he did have a bad habit of losing his rationality when it came to opportunities to kill the flea in Ikebukuro.

Shizuo hated the thought of living in a world with people like Izaya, though there really was no way to avoid it. He was just unlucky – a fact that proved itself just moments after leaving his apartment.

As he passed by Hikari's apartment door, an unusual slumped figure caught his attention. Turning his head, Shizuo unwittingly caught the gaze of the man sitting up against the wall.

"…Are you Hikari's neighbour?" the man asked.

He pushed himself up from the ground, and though he looked to be all skin and bones, he towered a good head over Shizuo. This intimidating height was complimented by his expensive white suit and styled hair, yet didn't fit the broad, easy grin he fixed Shizuo with.

Taken aback, Shizuo only stared and said, "Yeah."

"Do you know where she is?"

In the two weeks living with her, Shizuo had grown accustomed to Hikari's routine. She took morning walks each day, often passing him smoking outside the building with Tom when she did. Knowing that, calculating the hour, Shizuo answered honestly. "Not at home."

"Damn," the man muttered, running a hand through his short, brown hair, "I really need to speak to her about something."

Just what he was talking about, Shizuo honestly couldn't have cared. When he thought of all those missed calls, however, he had to wonder if standing before him was the caller; or perhaps it was completely unrelated. Most definitely, it was none of Shizuo's business.

"She won't be back for a while." Shizuo told the man bluntly.

The man in the suit waved his hand, laughing loudly. "Don't care! Guess I'll just have to wait!"

"For hours, I mean." Shizuo clarified, stressing just how long it would be.

The man fell to the floor anyway, taking up a seat beside Hikari's apartment door. "No matter," he dismissed lightly, "I'd do anything for her – that's the motto, at least."

"…Okay." Shizuo accepted that as the conclusion, and continued walking without another word.

The vague thought occurred to him that maybe Hikari Shibata had a stalker. He couldn't really think of anything else that fit situation, but then maybe he just didn't know Hikari well enough to judge her. As he reached the end of the hall and the beginning of the stairwell, he managed to push thoughts of her to back of his mind. She was an enigma he didn't need to figure out.

Though the stairs were not easy to walk, Shizuo reached the bottom without any exertion at all. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, feeling around for usual packet of cigarettes and lighter. He was almost as the door when he found them, slipping a cigarette from the packet as the front door neared.

Just as he reached for the handle, the door was pulled open by someone on the other side. Blinded briefly, he caught only the vague outline of their petite silhouette and the wry greeting of, "Shizuo Heiwajima."

He grunted in reply, recognising the voice. "Shibata." He figured that if they were going to be neighbours, he could afford to forgo the formalities of honorifics and the like.

The dark haired woman stepping inside wore her hair up today, carrying herself with an unusual air of professionalism. Her eyes pinned him to the spot, her lips curving in a playful grin. Even her clothes, a pleated skirt and button up, added something to her demeanour that had previously been missing.

Though he hesitated, Shizuo's tone still managed to be removed and blunt as he told her, "There's someone waiting outside your apartment."

"Someone? Who?"

Shizuo shrugged with one shoulder. "A man – didn't catch his name."

"…A man?" Hikari muttered, staring ahead at the staircase, "Brown hair and a big nose? Flashy suit?"

"Yeah. Said he'd wait all day to speak to you," Shizuo paused, overcoming his doubts and adding, "Not a stalker, is he?"

She laughed shortly. "No, no, nothing like that."

Shizuo nodded firmly and made to step past her. Just when he thought she'd let him, a hand reached out and caught his wrist. Shizuo pulled to a stop, spinning to face Hikari.

"Sorry," she said quickly, her fingers falling away from his arm, "But are you going to work right now?"

There was something about the look in her eyes that unnerved him. "…Yeah."

She bit her lip, gaze darting between him, the stairs, and the doors over his shoulder. "Could I come with you?"

"Why?" Shizuo really wanted to deny her, but he was curious. She said he wasn't a stalker, yet acted as if that was exactly the situation.

Hikari took a step closer, smiling up at him innocently. There was no way she didn't realise how pretty she was, which was just as Shizuo expected of someone like her. He refused to get flustered just by how close she stood to him.

" _Please_?" she begged, hands pressed together in prayer, "I'll buy you lunch."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I'll buy you lunch _and_ dinner."

If she was that desperate, Shizuo decided to press his luck. "And some new sunglasses." He said, thinking regretfully of the pair he had lost after last night's chase.

Hikari took a step back, looking him up and down. At first, he thought she was simply rejecting his bargain, until she admitted, "I didn't even realise they were missing – guess it explains why you look different today."

"So?"

She nodded easily, smiling happily at the agreement. "Deal," she said, "Although I think you look cuter without the glasses."

Not sure if it was a compliment or not, unwilling to even think it might be, Shizuo grunted in reply and kept walked. Hikari followed him, as close as any shadow as she walked back outside the way she had just come.

He took a few steps to the side before pulling up short. Hikari almost ran right into him, gripping his arm involuntarily for support. Shizuo only glanced back to her, staring at her until she smiled and he took it to mean she was okay.

Like he had the second time they'd met, he took up a position leaning against the side of the building. He held the cigarette between his fingers, pressed to his lips while his other hand held the lighter. The first few times his thumb rolled across it, it failed to click on. He managed it on the third try, dragged in a deep breath of toxins, before blowing the smoke out from his lips.

"You don't mind, do you?" Shizuo wondered absently, nodding towards the cigarette.

Hikari shook her head, moving to stand next to him. "I used to be a social smoker, and Ryuji smoked a lot as well…" she trailed off, wandering into her own world. Saying his name still left a bitter taste in her mouth, "Guess it reminds me of him now."

Shizuo hummed in acknowledgement, wondering how to keep the conversation moving. He wasn't experienced at talking with women. "He and I used to smoke on the rooftop." He blurted thoughtlessly.

Hikari smiled at him, not minding the topic at all. There was no one close to her who knew Ryuji well enough to express anything more than sorrow at his death, to talk about the exemplary human being and loving brother he had been. Loving, yes, but Ryuji's life had been bursting with the same problems, just as everyone else's did. It was as if death had erased his sins.

"Sounds like him." She agreed, before changing the subject out of curiosity, "So, do you wait here for your boss every morning?"

"Tom? Yeah." It occurred to Shizuo that he'd never told Hikari about his job, so he asked, "Do you even know what my job is?"

Hikari opened her mouth to answer, only to be cut off by a cry that echoed over the street. Someone was calling Shizuo's name, and when they looked around, they discovered it was none other than Tom Tanaka himself.

As he drew closer, the dark haired man also spotted the woman next to him. "You're Hikari, right?" he greeted her with a smile.

She nodded and smiled back. Shizuo explained the situation. "She wants to come with us to work."

Tom raised an eyebrow, glancing towards Hikari. "Do you even know what our job is?" he asked.

"No." Hikari admitted, though she didn't look too bothered by it.

"Not something a reputable model like you should get caught up in." Tom argued.

She ignored the warning. "You know my work?"

"Magazines." Shizuo grunted, vague as ever.

She understood his implication regardless, realizing that they had seen her photos in a magazine. "Oh, well, I'm taking a break from that for a while," She bowed her head, dark locks falling forward before her eyes as she bowed her head, "Please let me accompany you."

Tom glanced to Shizuo, perplexed. Hikari didn't look at all daunted by his warnings and her own request. She seemed perfectly fine with spending the day alone with two strangers, without even offering a reason for it.

"Her stalker is waiting outside her apartment and she wants to get away." Shizuo declared coolly.

" _Not_ my stalker - just someone I don't feel like talking to right now." Hikari retorted, narrowing her eyes.

Tom accepted the explanation only because it came from Shizuo, though he normally would have had his doubts. "I work for an independent debt collecting agency," he told Hikari in his own level tone, "Shizuo is my bodyguard."

"Bodyguard?" Hikari muttered under her breath, "That _does_ sound ideal for him."

"What?" Shizuo asked, not catching her words.

She flashed him a brilliant grin, persuading him of her innocence and Shizuo wondered if it was normal to feel so vulnerable around her. "Well, there's no problem. I promise not to get in your way."

Tom glanced to Shizuo once more, as if seeking his opinion. He wasn't sure why – he was no expert on Hikari Shibata.

Shizuo shook away the ashes from his cigarette. "Well," he conceded, "She did say she'd buy me lunch."

* * *

 **Going away this weekend so please enjoy the (slightly) early update!**


	4. four

_weak points / FOUR_

Hikari's shoes scuffed against the sidewalk, glancing sideways. "So, this is normal?"

Tom stood in a position that mirrored hers, back against the wall and hands in his pocket. "Yeah," he answered calmly, "Normal as you can get."

Her eyes wandered from his figure to the door between them. It hung slightly ajar, a few dull thuds echoing out from within. Shizuo's fist connecting with the client, probably. Hikari's knowledge on the matter was vague at best, as Tom and Shizuo seemed determined to keep it. She didn't mind, so long as it kept her from her apartment and the man waiting there for her.

They had been kinder to her than she probably would have been if she were in their positions. For once, she smiled a soft, genuine smile.

Something crashed against the ground, shattered. Hikari glanced up and towards the door once more. Ikebukuro was full of strange things, and she was slowly coming to accept them all with the kind of nonchalance that came from familiarity.

The day had passed mostly without incident. Hikari hung back when Tom went to meet his clients, Shizuo standing somewhere in between. She had noticed the eye he kept trained on her, as if he didn't trust her to stay and stand. It was simple enough, even somewhat entertaining in the moments she caught Shizuo staring; she would laugh at him, and he would pretend not to hear. Lunch and come and gone, with Hikari buying for both Tom and Shizuo. She didn't mind, having the money to spare.

"Step back from the door a little." Tom suggested suddenly.

Hikari nodded and moved along the wall. The arches of her feet ached from walking in heels all day, though she'd never admit it. Distracted, eyes down to the floor, Hikari didn't notice the door move until the sound of it reached her ears – a dull thud, followed by a louder crash.

Her fingers were still pushing back her hair, stopped behind her ear, when a heavy something came tumbling out of the apartment and slammed into the wall opposite. The door, swinging open with violent force, missed Tom by a few inches.

Hikari stared, wide-eyed, at the man collapsed on the floor. Something told her this was not even Shizuo Heiwajima's full potential.

Tom watched her from across the hall, not wanting to step forward and get caught in the crossfire. "Scared?" he asked her, expression curious.

Hikari looked from him, the man on the floor, and then towards the open door way. Shizuo's footsteps preluded his appearance in the frame.

She caught Shizuo's gaze for a short second. "Not really." Hikari answered honestly. Shizuo could only ever be guilty of amazing strength and a lack of control. She had met people with worse shortcomings, and that included herself. At least Shizuo's good intentions were genuine, rather than an act.

The man in question stood and stared. He looked aloof, though it was hard to tell when he wore such dark sunglasses. Hikari felt a sense of relief, removed from the concerns she should have had, that at least he hadn't broken his new pair in the altercation. Those glasses had been expensive, and the money had been forked from her own purse.

"…Maybe I overdid it." Shizuo muttered, head tilted in consideration.

The man on the floor, the client he had only meant to shake up, had a split lip and bloody nose. Give it a few minutes to show, and he'd probably be bruised black and blue as well. Hikari conceded that his bones weren't broken and he was still conscious, which probably meant Shizuo _had_ been holding back.

Tom, off to the side, sighed heavily. "Do you want to go wait outside while I finish this up?" he asked them, looking more at Hikari than anyone else.

She was caught a little off guard, confused. Shizuo understood the look better and took the lead, walking past. "Come on, Shibata." He said, glancing back at her.

Hikari tore her eyes away from Tom, the battered man on the hallway floor, and turned to trail after Shizuo. Her gaze stuck to his back, the way his clothes bunched at his hips as he moved, the shirt stretching over broad shoulders as he rolled his arm and stretched. Still worked up, she guessed.

When they reached the door, Shizuo pushed it open and Hikari caught it as she following him through. The evening air rushed over her, cool fingers against her skin. It was refreshing, leaving Hikari wide awake and more alert than ever.

Her mind turned over itself, processing what had just happened, before she turned sharply to Shizuo. He noticed the action in his peripheral vision and mirrored her actions.

Something in his gaze persuaded him to stand still when she reached forward, while caution kept him even stiller as she took his hand in hers. Her fingers grazed his knuckles and lifted his arm to her eye level. "Does it hurt?"

"Huh?"

Hikari indicated to his hand with a frown, wondering at the absence of bruises. "Does it hurt?" she repeated.

"Oh. No, it doesn't."

"Strange…Using so much force, yet you don't even have a bruise on you from the impact."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow. "What would you know about things like that?"

She averted her eyes from his. "Ryuji," she explained, dropping his hand, "He wasn't involved in the most reputable of businesses, so I picked up on a few things about fights."

Shizuo had been suspicious of a lie, despite knowing her words to be true. He could confirm what she said from his own knowledge of the man. He was tempted to push it, but the thought of Ryuji's recent death led him to reply with a shrug only. The pain was still too fresh, he decided.

"I've heard you can tear street signs out of the ground." Hikari mentioned idly. She stepped sideways to avoid the crowd on the street, her shoulder now brushing up against his.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Somewhere, doesn't matter – But is it true?"

Shizuo glanced down at his hand, stretching his fingers out before him. "Yeah." He almost wished it was a lie.

Her laughter reached his ears over the din. Startled by it, he turned to stare down at her with incredulity. She smiled up at him, admitting, "You really are amazing, you know."

Shizuo wasn't sure how to respond to something like that. He would've known if it was simply an insult, something he was very familiar with. Yet when others called him _monster_ , she called him _amazing._ He wasn't sure how to feel about something like that, and luckily he never had to figure it out.

Tom came walking out of the apartment complex before another single word passed between them.

"Is there anyone else?" Shizuo asked him to divert Hikari's attention.

Tom shook his head. "That was the last client for today, so I'm going to head home now, as well. I have my own business to take care of," Tom continued, shooting Shizuo a meaningful look, "You should take care of Hikari."

"I'd be fine on my own." Hikari argued, though she knew she'd more than likely also be a little lost.

"All the same." The dark haired man decided, smiling firmly. It was the smarter choice, and they did live in the same building, so he doubted Hikari would dismiss his sensibility.

Before either of them could argue with him, Tom had left them with a short, conclusive nod. He turned and disappeared amongst the crowd, hands pushed into his pockets and elbows out.

She felt Shizuo's presence beside her shoulder, casting a shadow over half her face. "Let's go."

"What?"

"We'll be walking in the same direction anyway." Shizuo explained, shrugging as Hikari stared up at him.

Her gaze faltered, dropping to the pavement. "I guess." She agreed half-heartedly.

Shizuo took it as a surrender, stepping around her and walking on ahead. He could feel the weight of her attention, studying his gaze, and he found himself walking more stiffly than usual. Throwing his shoulders back, standing straighter; Hikari couldn't help but laugh at him.

He scowled at the sound, sending her a sharp look over his shoulder. "Hurry up." Shizuo commanded.

"Coming!" She exclaimed, annoyed at being so easily ordered about. Her heels tapped against the footpath as she took small, hasty steps to match Shizuo's longer strides.

She reached his side and stuck close by. Being about a head taller than most of the crowd, Shizuo cut an easy path through the streets. It was easiest to follow in his wake, holding her tongue and focusing on sticking close. Hikari really wasn't sure if there was anything appropriate to say in this situation. Her mind faltered for conversation, having exhausted her store of ideas early in the day.

"Shibata."

Startled, both for the suddenness and for Shizuo initiating the conversation, Hikari stammered her answer, "Y-yeah?"

"You don't mind taking a short cut back to the building, right?"

"Short cut? Why would I…?" she shook off her confusion, instead saying, "No, I don't mind. Where is it?"

His shoulders angled towards the left, a warning of his movements as he said, "Here."

He turned down the alley so suddenly Hikari almost walked right past. She caught herself at the last second, spinning on her heel, and chased Shizuo down the dark alley. Her nose wrinkled at the stench, hunching her shoulders as the brick walls towered high and narrow over her head. It was strange how quickly they could leave behind the twinkling lights of the entertainment district.

"Can I ask you a question now, then?" Hikari asked.

"You just did." Shizuo pointed out dryly.

"Smartass."

"What?"

"Nothing!" Hikari smiled innocently at him when he glanced back, "I just wanted to know if anyone around our area would be interested in hiring."

"...Don't you already have a job?" Shizuo wondered, thinking back to the magazine with her face on it.

"I'm on leave, remember? Just need something to pass the time right now."

It was a fair enough explanation. He hadn't seen Hikari do much more than stay in her apartment and wander the city, nothing all that exciting.

"There's the flower shop across the road." Shizuo suggested, with no other answer coming to mind.

"That could work – you know who owns it?"

He frowned, struggling to recall the name. "Old Lady Oriku."

"That would be rude to show up and call her Old Lady." Hikari quipped.

"Then just call her Oriku."

"Oh, sage advice." Hikari muttered sarcastically, not bothering to keep her voice down.

"You should shut up," he muttered offhandedly, "I really don't feel like hitting anyone else today."

She eyed him dryly, sceptical of the threat in his words. "Then don't." she suggested bluntly, as though it were that simple for him.

They reached the end of the alley at last, the street widening as she followed Shizuo's left turn and walked up to his side. Hikari was pushed closer to his side by the crowd. Her shoulder brushed against his arm, butterfly wings against a cotton flower, but he felt it all the same and stared down at her.

"I'm not always in control of how much strength I use." He explained, jumping from half-hearted threats to blunt fact-stating in a moment.

"Really? Well then," Hikari sounded no different than normal, and for that reason, her question was all the more unnerving, "Have you ever killed anyone before?"

He could feel his grip tighten, curling in on itself as he wished for a smoke to ease his irritation. "No."

"Oh." She sighed. He wondered if he had heard that right – Hikari almost sounded disappointed.

As if his mood was attuned to hers, his feelings flitted from place to place. She drifted between politeness and rudeness with little thought to how opposite they were as extremes. Trying to filter through her smiles and good manners was like submerging himself in deep water, searching for the true meaning of her words. Insincerity annoyed him; so he knew, as he began to relax around her once more, that this time she was speaking her honest opinion, odd as it was for her to be disappointed by his answer.

Shizuo was saved from the conversation as their apartment building came into sight. No longer fishing about for a topic, he instead simply announced as they drew level, "We're here."

"At last. My feet hurt from all this walking."

"It's not that much work." Shizuo defended.

Hikari crossed the path in front of him, glancing back with glittering emerald eyes. "I'm wearing heels, though - and before you say anything, I know they're the devil's invention, but they make my legs look good _so..."_ Hikari trailed off rhetorically, distracted by the task of holding the door to their building open for the two of them. "Are you coming or going?"

"Coming." Shizuo answered, recovering his wits and walking quickly inside.

The door slammed behind them. "Not up for one of your walks?" Hikari wondered.

"No…Why do you know about that?"

She laughed lightly, smiling playfully. "Oh, I know everything."

Shizuo did concede it was hypocritical of him to ask, seeing as how he was aware of Hikari's own morning walks. He decided to drop the subject before his own habits were called into question.

Hikari led the way towards the stairs. They were silent as they walked, listening only to the tapping of their footsteps and short breaths. Shizuo didn't mind it, companionable as it was, and wasn't one to complain as he looked up and took in the swing of her waist, her long legs and marble skin. Flawless, he decided eventually.

"Shibata," Shizuo began to say, before stopping himself. What on earth had made him want to talk to her first?

"Yeah?" Hikari was looking his way curiously, head tilted.

He shook his head, pushing the feeling away. Saying her name, _Shibata,_ only made him think of Ryuji. "…Nothing."

They turned the corner, entering their hall. They continued walking side by side, while Hikari replied with a heavy sigh, "Why'd you say anything then? You realise that-?"

A sudden, loud cry cut them both off. " _Hikari!"_ Her name – who would call _her_ name so happily? Shizuo wasn't aware she even had friends.

Turning down the hall, the two of them stared into the thin-stretched shadows and watched a figure emerge from the depths. Brown haired, tan skinned, wearing an expensive suit and the silliest grin – it was the man from earlier that day. Shizuo was more amazed than anything else, wondering if he'd been waiting there since morning just to meet Hikari.

"Your stalker?" Shizuo mumbled, dumbfounded.

The man skipped a few steps closer, laughing. "Stalker?" He echoed, " _Stalker_? – Hikari Shibata, just want kind of lies have you been feeding this young man?"

His gaze sought to pin her down, but Hikari ducked behind Shizuo. Her stomach turned at the very sight of this man, unable to stand the smiles and good humour. She had had enough of gentle treatment and unwanted compassion.

"Just the usual ones," Hikari retorted, her voice strained, "Nothing good, I promise."

"Hikari!" The man moaned dramatically, throwing a hand across his face. "How can my number one client be so cruel to me?! After everything I've done for you!"

"Please keep it down, Mr Ishikawa. Other people live in this building."

"Right, right – like you do, I hear? Deserting your manager, leaving without a word. All the times I called and you never picked up? I was so worried I thought my heart would _explode_!"

"Well, I'm fine." Hikari told him bluntly, her words ringing empty.

Shizuo, still puzzling through the conversation – this man, Ishikawa, talked way too fast – could barely manage to articulate his confusion, " _Manager_?"

Hikari edged backwards as he spun to look at her expectantly. It was obvious she didn't feel like talking about it with him, but the decision wasn't ultimately hers. Ishikawa was quicker to explain, saying, "Oh, I can't believe she didn't tell you! Name's Hiroyuki Ishikawa – talent agent, personal manager, all that. I'm in charge of Hikari's modelling."

"You would be," Hikari interjected, "Except I'm on a _break_. Do you understand what that means, Mr Ishikawa? It _means_ I don't feel like working."

"And I'm not here to _make_ you! Although if you don't get back in the game soon, some of your job offers might pull out. No one wants a model that refuses to do the modelling."

Hikari crossed her arms, huffing irritably. "Mr Ishikawa-!"

The brown haired man threw up his arms, exclaiming loudly, "I'm just here making sure you're okay. After you left, what with the circumstances of your brother's sudden death, I was worried-!"

" _Ishikawa_ ," Hikari snapped, eyes narrow and lips pulled into a scowl, "You talk too much."

She marched around Shizuo, a storm of ebony hair and icy glares. Drawing level with her manager, Hikari grabbed the man's pink-printed tie and yanked him down to her level. She was, despite her thin frame, a formidable force with possessing anger cold enough to raise goosebumps on any man's skin.

"When I want to return to work, I'll tell you," Hikari declared sharply, "My brother was only killed a few weeks ago, and I am in no mood to walk back out into your world to fake a smile for judgemental critics."

 _Her brother was killed_ ; that was an interesting way to phrase the 'act of suicide' he had been told Ryuji passed away from.

Ishikawa was wide eyed as he stumbled back, long limbs spinning and toppling his weight. He landed on the floor with a thud, Hikari standing over him. She wore a look of stone, impassive until some softer thought settled on her mind. Shizuo watched her shoulders drop, could feel the tension leave the air in a matter of seconds.

The floor creaked under his weight, taking a step, but he stopped when Hikari looked over her shoulder at him. "Thank you for today, Heiwajima. It was nice."

What was he meant to say in a situation like this? "…No problem."

She seemed to find it acceptable enough, even though he called himself an idiot for such a dull reply. Maybe it wasn't any of his business to offer her more than that. Hikari certainly didn't ask it of him, instead turning and walking around Ishikawa.

He moved to sit cross-legged on the ground, eyes trailing Hikari. There was honest concern in his expression, which she refused to acknowledge.

Hand on her apartment door, eyes fluttering shut. "I just need more time," she confessed tiredly, leaving only those words in her wake.

The two men left in the silent hall shared a glance. Shizuo shrugged – a woman like Hikari was beyond his understanding.

* * *

 **I don't really like the execution of this chap lol - like, who ordered the OOC Shizuo? (the answer is me) But hopefully his characterization is better in the rest of the story.**

 **Maybe one day (i.e. probably never) I'll revisit this and try to fix it up.**

 **Thanks for reading (and surviving my painfully boring writing)!**


	5. five

_weak points / FIVE_

Petals furled out, shocks of colour in their veins, in clustered blooms at the foot of the path. There were so many choices, small potted plants and pre-picked bunches wrapped with paper and ribbon, that it was almost overwhelming to the eyes. Even the smell of it, so fresh, was out of place in a bustling entertainment district like Ikebukuro. Even if just for that, Hikari found herself liking the small flower shop across from her apartment building already.

With that small smile, lungs drawing in a deep breath, Hikari finally stepped forward to the door. The bell chimed loudly as she pushed it open and stepped inside the shop. A fragrant smell welcomed her, cool air pressing against bare skin.

Looking over the tangled rows of flowers, Hikari's eyes landed on the front bench and the older woman standing behind it. She was thin woman, her brown eyes lined with wrinkles and warmth, whilst her dark hair, pulled into a tight bun, shone silver with premature grey streaks. No doubt, this was the ' _Old Lady Oriku'_ Shizuo had mentioned to her.

Their eyes met across the shop. She offered a smile, while Hikari's hand tightened on the bag strung over her shoulder. Her heart pounded, nervous; she hadn't been job-hunting since her high school days.

"Hello, Miss," the middle-aged woman began, "How can I help you today?"

Hikari took a few more steps inside. Distracting herself for a moment, she took in the flowers, all with their faces lifted upwards. Roses, daises, lilies – Hikari could think only of the wreath laid on top of her brother's coffin, the flowers they had thrown into the grave after him. She still hadn't gone back to visit Ryuji.

"Looking for something in particular?" Oriku asked again.

Shaking of her morbid thoughts, Hikari returned the smile politely and shook her head. "Not really. I actually wanted to ask you something. If," Hikari reached the counter, put on her best front, "Well, if you were hiring, actually."

"Hiring?" Oriku echoed, surprised, "I suppose I _could_ do with an extra pair of hands around here…"

Hope bloomed. "Really?"

The grey haired woman nodded. "Yes. You see, usually my daughter helps out around here, but she's left for university this year. I suppose I should've advertised, but I can never work that damn printer at home."

Hikari laughed, genuinely delighted. She had so, so needed this stroke of good luck amidst the sea of misfortunate drowning her. "Well, hopefully you won't need to worry. I was really hoping you would be willing to take me on as part-time, or something."

"I'd love to!"

"That's great. Oh, I have a resume as well…" Hikari fumbled with the buckle on her bag, at last pulling it open and slipping out a role of papers from within, "If you'd like to have a look."

"Thank you, my dear..." Oriku smiled happily, the corners of her eyes gathering creases like a fan. She took the papers, the resume, and glanced over the cover. "Hikari Shibata," she corrected herself, "And my name's Oriku Watanabe."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, you too, Hikari. Although…"

Hikari tilted her head, confused. " _Although_?"

"You seem familiar somehow," Oriku explained, frowning as if she were some intense puzzle. Hikari went to explain, guessing it had to do with her modelling, only for the older woman to jump and exclaim, "Oh! I know! I've seen you around with that young man from across the road. Mr Heiwajima, isn't it?"

"You know him?" That was certainly not the answer she expected.

"Not well. I had heard his name before, but only ever spoke to him for the first time a few weeks ago. Poor guy was here to get flowers for a friend who'd passed."

There came that ache again – dull, persistently beating inside her chest. She wanted to stamp it out, to forget the name, the feeling. She knew who it was that Shizuo had told Oriku about. "Oh." That was all Hikari had to say on the matter of Ryuji Shibata.

There was some peculiar sharpness to Oriku's gaze, as if she understood the storm inside Hikari. This woman might be shrewder that Hikari had imagined, as she tactfully changed the subject. "Oh, but it's not like we just sell flowers for such morbid reasons," she said, prattling on cheerfully, "We have the most wonderful roses for weddings as well. And there's our range of toys, popular with the kids. Maybe you won't find it all that exciting here, but for me, it's a rewarding place to work. I've owned this business since I was your age, I think."

"So it's kind of a part of your home now?" Hikari guessed.

"Exactly!"

She smiled, a peculiar feeling settling into her skin. Hikari couldn't understand it herself, but knew that whatever this warm feeling was, it was genuine. She had not touched such sincere emotions in a long time, but there was something about Oriku's kindness that made it impossible to lie to her.

"I really appreciate you giving me this chance, Mrs Watanabe." Hikari told her, bowing her head.

"And I appreciate that you'd think of me!"

She laughed in turn. "I live just across the street, so it makes sense."

"Oh, you do? That's convenient," Oriku said good-naturedly, "Well, do you have any questions about the job? Or would you just like me to call you and work out the details later?"

Hikari considered the options, checked the time on her phone as surreptitiously as possible. "It might be easier to call me." She admitted.

"That's fine with me. I'll call in a few days, and you might even be able to start work this week if you want." The older woman assured, smiling cheerfully.

"Great!"

"Thanks for dropping in, Hikari."

She smiled and concluded the farewell, saying, "I'll see you soon I suppose?"

Oriku nodded, her fingers playing with the edges of Hikari's resume. The black haired woman bowed her head once more, turning on her heel and beginning to navigate her way out of the shop. At the door, Hikari hesitated and looked back with a smile. "Thank you very much." She said, recalling her manners at the last second.

As if to dismiss her, Oriku raised her hand. "I'll be in touch!"

The breeze rushed in as Hikari stepped outside, brushing aside the black locks from her cheeks. She paused on the sidewalk, glancing each way as the traffic raced down the road. She waited for a break before dashing across, hand on her bag and holding it to her side. Preoccupied as she was, it was no wonder Hikari failed to realise the oncoming problem she faced.

She was only brought to a stop when she crashed right on into it. It was all in the most literal sense, as she crashed into one idle body. Shizuo Heiwajima stood like a stone statue outside the doors of their apartment, meeting her halfway as he walked out and she walked in.

" _Ow_!" Hikari exclaimed, teetering back and rubbing her head, "Who the hell-? Oh, Heiwajima!"

The impact of her head hitting his chest hardly caused him to twitch. "Hey, Shibata," Shizuo greeted coolly, staring down at her curiously, "Are you usually this airheaded?"

"Not usually," she muttered, rubbing her head, "Question, though; what the hell is your body made out of?"

"Bones and stuff." Shizuo answered easily, frowning down at her.

Hikari didn't seem to believe him, her hands reaching up to pat his cheeks. Under her fingers, he was warm; human. Shizuo seemed surprised at first, his cheeks glowing red, before jerking backwards and carefully brushing her hands aside.

Despite what he said, Hikari had her own doubts. She was half convinced he was made of cement, what with the way her head ached now.

"Anyway," Shizuo began, changing the subject, "Did you just come from Oriku's shop?"

The reminder of her success was enough for Hikari to smile, returning to her usual polite aloofness. "Oh, yeah. I went over to ask about work, like you suggested. Got the job, of course."

" _Of course?_ " Shizuo mimicked thoughtfully, "…Figures someone like you would be arrogant."

"Arrogant? I'm not arrogant." Hikari declared, rightfully indignant.

Shizuo crossed his arms, staring across at her. "Then what?"

"Confidence, Heiwajima. I don't think that I'm _better_ than anyone else, but I can certainly be as _good_ _as_ them."

"…Oh, okay."

He couldn't think of anything else to say. Just as he was resigned to let the conversation die where it was, Hikari recovered it when she asked, "I suppose you're meeting Tom soon?"

Without meaning to, Shizuo found himself staring at her. "Yeah."

She smiled, lips painted red with makeup. "I won't bother you anymore then," she declared, surreptitiously pulling out her phone to check the time, "In fact, I should probably keep moving myself."

There was something in her eyes. A trick of the light, he had assumed at first, only to realise that her smile never quite seemed genuine. He wondered if people like Hikari Shibata could actually ever feel lonely, and if he should do something about it if they did.

Just as the dark haired woman moved, about to brush past him, Shizuo turned and caught her gaze. "It's not a bother."

He hadn't meant to say it, but once he had, he found he didn't regret it. Hikari's laughter erased any of his reservations, and he was sincerely glad for it. It wasn't often he made any sort of difference in anyone's life, particularly a good one.

As he studied her laughter, the softness of her genuine smile, Shizuo found himself leaning forward. She didn't jerk away like he would have, instead remaining unfazed by his direct gaze.

"Well, if it's not a bother," she said at last, still smiling to herself, "Maybe you can come visit me at work if you're ever walking past."

He made a small harrumph, an agreeing noise that hid his smile. "Maybe." Shizuo said, turning back to gaze out at the street before him.

Hikari took it as the conclusion it was, understood that now was her chance to leave. Instead she hesitated. Shizuo glanced sideways, caught her staring. "Thank you." She said, quickly recovering herself.

She left him there in silence, entering the building as quickly as she could manage. She liked Shizuo, for sure, but he was hard to be around. He was so raw, so genuine, that she almost felt bad about all the lies she fed him. And he had considered Ryuji a friend – that, more than anything, made Shizuo Heiwajima a difficult man to face.

Once inside the quiet of the building, Hikari climbed the stairs as quick as she could manage in today's choice heels. It left her out of breath by the time she reached her apartment door, fumbling for the keys inside her bag. She touched her phone, heard the jangle as she plucked the key ring out from within and finally managed to unlock her door.

Cold, still air welcomed her inside. The curtains were drawn shut, enveloping the room in darkness. Hikari didn't hesitate as she made her way in, slamming the door shut behind her.

Making her way through the house, she flicked on the lounge room light and dumped her handbag on the kitchen counter beside her laptop. A quick trip up the hall led her to open the window there, one of the few external light sources she had. Ryuji should have asked for an apartment on the corner, one with more windows.

When she finally had the chance to sit, it was at the counter and before the laptop. Hikari could feel herself slumping forward, already exhausted. She considered sleeping, but her fingers were already turning the computer on. She might as well keep fishing for information.

Her move to Ikebukuro saw quite a few changes in Hikari's lifestyle. One of the most interesting was the invitation to join the Dollars, from where she learned about a popular chatroom and was able to establish herself there. It was an easy way to ask questions while still retain her anonymity.

The screen lit up, Hikari's fingers typing the password in reflexively. She needed good sources like the Dollars. It was from them that she found about Shizuo Heiwajima, that she heard the rumours of the black rider, could catch vague rumours about underground happenings. She feigned her interest for now, unwilling to draw attention to herself.

The chatroom popped up, loaded the previous messages she hadn't seen. Hikari scrolled through them quickly. No one was active as of yet.

She typed her message.

 _Nise: hey, can I ask you guys something?_

She waited a few minutes. There was enough time that she checked her phone, swiped down and saw three missed phone calls from Ishikawa that she never intended upon returning.

A blinking light on her laptop caught her eye. Hikari turned to it, saw that someone had replied, and smiled amiably.

 _Kanra: go ahead. What is it?_

 _Nise: just a name I've heard mention a few times. Curious. Does anyone know anything about Ryuji Shibata?_

Hikari felt her finger pause over the send button. Apprehension flitted about her stomach, making her queasy. She knew now really wasn't the time for cold feet, and so she pressed down. Message sent.

 _Kanra: Ryuji Shibata? I've heard of him._

 _Nise: was he someone important?_

 _Kanra: he knew lots of people. It was part of his job._

She had a feeling she knew what 'Kanra' meant, but Hikari still asked. _Nise: …job?_

 _Kanra: running errands, transportation mostly. Pretty shady stuff._

 _Nise: Oh._

 _Kanra: I've heard rumours that he was affiliated with the yakuza. There are some bad people around here. If Ryuji Shibata really was involved with them that would explain why he disappeared so suddenly._

 _Nise: Oh._

She knew this already, found that it had no effect on her. Better to drop it, she thought. At least this set of questions could set stage for anything deeper. This 'Kanra' seemed to know quite a bit, was always chiming in with odd snatches of information. It made her want to know more about Ikebukuro, about the world Ryuji had lived in.

She thought that maybe if she breathed this air, sat in the same places that she had, she might grow just a little closer to the brother who lived in a world entirely separate from hers. And how silly was that, to want to grow closer to a dead man?

 _Disappeared?_ Hikari could almost laugh at it all. More like he was murdered.

* * *

 **"regular updates"**

 **Thanks to everyone how followed/favourited so far and please leave a review! Critique away!**


	6. six

_weak points / SIX_

Another day in Ikebukuro brought clear skies and warm weather with it, drawing even the most isolated from their holes. Among them, Izaya Orihara stood in shadows, around corners and the grimy alleyways that could hide nothing scarier than him. His eyes were intent and watchful, flitting about from one thing to another, and all his observations came to reveal one thing to him – a beautiful day in Ikebukuro was also utterly boring.

Today, he would have to make his own sport.

He wandered the streets in search of coincidences and people he could play with. Anywhere he could give a subtle nudge to the course of events just waiting to be set in motion. He had already been out for a few luckless hours. The sun was becoming irritatingly warm, but he still didn't take his jacket off, thinking that he might just return home soon. Following that train of thought led him towards more residential streets, filled with apartment complexes and a more industrial crowd. A glance around told Izaya just where his feet had led him, to the one place he inexplicably came to whenever boredom became too unbearable.

Even despite how much he hated Shizuo Heiwajima, Izaya never could separate their lives from one another. He reasoned that this was because it was far too entertaining to mess with Shizuo. He liked knowing just what that idiot nuisance was up to, or if there was something good in his life that Izaya could possibly take away from him.

Just as Izaya went to take a turn down the next street, his attention was caught in a tide of irritation at the sight of a bartender's uniform.

"Speak of the devil," He muttered, smiling pleasantly, "And he will appear."

He was, at first, thoroughly puzzled, before deciding to take it as the stroke of good fortune that it was. Shizuo Heiwajima was not the least bit inconspicuous when standing outside the front of a flower shop.

If there were two elements he never thought could mix, Izaya would have assumed it to be this. He ran through the various situations that could have brought Shizuo and a flower shop together, and he found each idea to be more amusing than the next. The truth was something he only realised when the shop door swung open.

The woman stepping out was about a head shorter than Shizuo, bony and slim. A curtain of dark hair hung to her shoulders, obscuring her face from Izaya's line of sight. He watched her move towards Shizuo, lifting her head, touching his arm with an air of familiarity. Curiosity drove him a few steps forward. Just what sort of woman could ever hold Shizuo's interest like she did?

In the long term, if he were to think that far, Izaya also wondered if this woman would affect any of his plans. It was possible, given that a connection to Shizuo could also link to something deeper. A woman, a stranger, in Ikebukuro was certainly something to pay attention to.

Izaya inched closer to the pair, keeping close to the shadows of the buildings. He wouldn't be able to get close enough to hear their conversation either way, so at the first break in the crowd, he crossed the street to watch from the other side. There was less chance of Shizuo spotting him that way, which was as Izaya wanted it. He didn't really want to expend the effort it would take to avoid being killed that day.

The woman wore a button-up shirt and tight black skirt, her sleeves rolled up as she moved the flowers around in their arrangements. Someone working at the florist's, then. Izaya caught only a brief glimpse at her face when she looked up at Shizuo; arching brows over narrow eyes, lips painted red with lipstick. Her smile was modest, distant, and Izaya found himself recognising her as the up-and-coming model Hikari Shibata – only, instead of modelling, she was working in a flower shop.

Izaya had found his newest project.

He turned his phone up, tilting it out of the glare of the sun. A quick search brought up a number of results. Advertising companies, beauty brands and a few well-known designers all seemed connected to Hikari Shibata. He scrolled through a few news articles, sparse in the same way as her name was; never mentioned much despite her face being common-place. It was enough to teach him her background and to satisfy Izaya, before he put the phone away and turned his attention back to the pair.

His gaze lingered, watching as she said something, paused to laugh, before leaving the conversation in Shizuo's hands. A quick way to kill it, Izaya thought, and was proven right just moments later. He had only to wait a few minutes before Shizuo began to turn away, heading down the street.

Izaya saw his chance, being the opportunist that he was, and dove forward into the trafficking. Making a beeline for the florist, he soon found himself on the sidewalk out the front. At his toes sat a line of potted pansies, beyond that a row of colourful flower arrangements full of lilies and roses.

The woman was across from him, her back turned, so that it appeared to her that Izaya had simply been passing by.

She turned, one hand brushing aside ebony locks. "Oh, hello!" Her voice fell flat, full of sweetness without substance.

Izaya smiled back at her. "Hello," he replied cheerfully, much more masterfully than she had, "I was just admiring how quaint it is here."

"Oh? Not interested in buying then?" Hikari replied, "No one to buy _for_?"

There was some people, he was sure, who would've been goaded into taking that bait and buying them just to spite her. That was not Izaya, however, who was really only there out of his own boredom, to observe.

"No one who's worth it," Izaya agreed, "I've never understood this custom in humans."

Hikari tilted her head, pursued her lips. Just as with him, boredom drove her into curiosity. "Which is to say…?" she prompted, delighted at having found someone to pass a few more minutes with.

Indulge her and he might expect indulgence in return; an idea to which Izaya happily conceded.

"We give people a temporary gift as if in a show temporary support – cruel, isn't it, for humans to mock each other like that? Don't you think it goes against every civility they're taught? Giving flowers is just a way of directing the guilt of neglect elsewhere."

He hadn't meant to say as much as he had, but there was no wariness in Hikari's eyes or disinterest in the curve of her mouth. She was a morbid character, he realised, to enjoy talks of this nature. He would have figured her an idiot after watching her interact with Shizuo so casually.

She laughter rang in his ears, catching his interest for its peculiarity. It was like the dust and wear that overcame the pages of a untouched book; stiff from disuse. "Interesting theory," she declared, "But since you seem to have so much to say, maybe you wouldn't mind introducing yourself first?"

He took a hand out of his coat pocket, offered it her. "Izaya Orihara." He told her, eye trained for any sign she knew the name. If she had heard any of the rumours, it might take some time to disillusion her of that initial impression.

Hikari didn't so much as blink, taking it in with the same level gaze and calm composure. "Nice to meet you. I'm Hikari Shibata."

She shook his hand – that alone was enough to convince him. She mustn't have heard his name, an advantage he should be grateful for considering the skewed hatred Shizuo might have pressed upon her.

"So, Miss Shibata, might I be right if I guessed that you're not exactly a local around here?"

"Right," she confirmed, not thinking twice about it, "Must've been about a month ago that I moved here."

"Interesting." Izaya said, tilting his head and smiling.

Hikari crossed her arms, frowning at him curiously. "…To be honest, I kind of have to wonder why you stopped here in the first place. You don't want to buy. You don't even _like_ flowers, by your own admission."

He nodded understandingly, as if her suspicions were nothing. "To be honest," he intoned, mimicking her, "I kind of have to wonder why a high-profile model like you would move to Ikebukuro just as their career was beginning to take off."

Her shoulders were turned to him, inclining away from his presence. The harshness on her face seemed far better suited to her features, even if that resentment were directed at him. "You're not a stalker, are you?"

He looked ready to laugh. "No, not out of personal interest. It's my business to know these things." Izaya confessed.

Her lips were pursued, her manner once again mild. "That doesn't seem any better to me."

He shrugged, grinning. "I guess not."

And following that admission, the conversation wilted away into nothing but dead air. There came a sound in the distance that killed his mood, just as that harsh, howling voice seemed to promise to do the same to him.

" _I-za-ya!"_

He could see Hikari's lips move to frame words, her eyes drawn to the source. There was alarm in her expression, but no fear despite the sight she saw.

"…So the rumours about his strength are true." She murmured breathlessly.

Shizuo stood on the street corner, his hands braced against a street sign. The cement in the ground and the pavement surrounding were nothing to him as he ripped it from the city's floor like a weed from a garden. It was almost animalistic, Shizuo's instinct to kill. Certainly his strength was monstrous, as he hurled the street sign like it were a light-weight javelin.

A hand over her mouth stifled her gasp. Hikari and Izaya moved a step away from each other, a shattering explosion tearing into the air between them. The pavement was speared through with the end of the sign, lodged firmly into the ground. The spray of cement caught the display of flowers outside Oriku's shop, a few landing at the toes of Hikari's shoes.

Her eyes darted around in amazement, from her feet and up to the street. She spotted Izaya Orihara dashing off down the street, turned to see Shizuo chasing after him like a dog at his heels. It was so single-minded, so surreal that Hikari couldn't help but laugh at it all.

Shizuo dashed past, a blur of bleach-blonde and bartender, while her fingers hid the wide, genuine grin on her face. Ikebukuro was bursting with life, with glittering lights and strange people meeting in even stranger circumstances.

Even just that one glimpse, the city reflected in Shizuo's eyes as he had spared her that passing look, were enough to set her heart pounding.

* * *

 **Thank you to everyone who favs/follows (and sorry I have no concept of time and always forget to update).**


	7. seven

_weak point / SEVEN_

Red rivers flooded over hills and valleys, running thick through his fingers. Shizuo tightened his grip, but it did little to stop the bleeding of the deep cut in his arm. The sleeve of his bartender uniform had been torn in the fight, dirty stains against the cuffs where his fists had missed and hit walls and roads. He had suffered this stinging pain, a defeat to his ego, for half of an hour and his lightheadness only grew as each minute passed. He was not used to being in such a sorry state.

At the top of the stairs, he paused to breathe in deeply. He didn't regret it, not when thinking about how close he had been to finally killing that flea, Izaya Orihara. Catching him outside the flower shop where Hikari worked had been his good fortune for the day. This cut from his knife had been the bad.

Shizuo, as he made his way towards his apartment, could focus only on one foot in front of the other. If he lost focus for a second, he was sure that his balance would slip and he might accidently break something trying to keep himself upright. As it where, he almost found himself walking straight past his door.

He tried the handle, bewildered to find it locked. _The key_ ; remembering this, Shizuo used the hand most clean of blood to slip it from his pocket. Even then, inside the lock, it still didn't move. He blamed the blood on his fingertips, the nicotine twitch in his hand, and his frustration mounted to the point where he could no longer be bothered with patience. He turned the key as hard as he could, busting the lock – at least the door was open now.

He took a few steps inside, the hallway ahead lit only by the lounge room light. He thought it strange, not being able to remember leaving it on when he had left that morning. Maybe it was the blood loss, his own aching arm and pounding head that drove the memory from him.

Shizuo walked a few steps further, reaching the end of the hall, and it was there that he found himself falter once more. His fingers twitched, slid across his skin slick with blood, as her eyes turned to look at him from over her shoulder.

"…Heiwajima?"

For a second, he lost his words in the deep of Hikari Shibata's gaze. It was then that his mistake dawned upon him.

"Oh. Wrong door."

He turned away before she could criticise the embarrassment on his cheeks. She was still staring as he kept moving away. The weight of her eyes on his wound seemed to make the pain throb fiercer, and Shizuo was determined to leave her apartment as fast as he could and to never think about this incident ever again.

"Heiwajima, what-?" Hikari started and stopped, faltering in her surprise.

Shizuo looked down at his feet, forced himself to take another step. His body seemed frozen, mortified, and he realised how strange it was to feel this self-conscious around anyone. "Sorry I broke your lock." He muttered.

Her breathless laugher stopped him in his tracks. "If you were that eager to see me, I'm not gonna make you leave." She told him teasingly, surprising herself with her own words. It wasn't often her compassion got the better of her, but Hikari honestly couldn't just ignore the deep, gushing wound in his arm.

Shizuo acted as if it were nothing, but his actions, language and countenance donated some degree of affectedness. To herself, she thought him an idiot for acting like it was nothing. Hikari was standing in a moment, moving around her couch and a basket of washing, before thought took the place of instinct. Shizuo still didn't move, even as she edged around him and went ahead to push the door shut. With the handle broken, Hikari resorted to using the old chain lock.

"Sit down," Hikari ordered, spinning around to face the uninvited guest, "I'll do something about that cut."

"I don't need you to."

She walked up to him, poked his shoulder firmly. Unlike usual, Shizuo swayed back on his heels and his eyes narrowed at the pain. Hikari smiled smugly at his affected state. "Don't care. Sit down anyway."

Shizuo could feel his irritation mounting. He had no desire to sit here, in Ryuji's old apartment, while his sister cleaned up his cut. It wasn't even that bad –

"Heiwajima!"

Hikari caught his arm before he collapsed completely. For a moment, at least, he couldn't help but concede and give in to her help, to lean on her shoulder. Though her figure was petite, she was warm and held up surprisingly well under his weight. Shizuo thought to glance across, but the moment he turned to face her, he decided it was much too close.

He could have counted every one of her lashes, every shade of green in the palette of her wide eyes. Shizuo jerked his head around sideways, resuming the usual boundaries between acquaintances.

"The couch." Hikari explained shortly, guiding him around her apartment to take a seat. Once Shizuo had been settled, Hikari left his side and stood up straight. "Take your shirt off."

"What? Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "So I can clean up your arm, pervert," she amended, "I'll be back in a second with something to clean it."

Hikari disappeared down the hall, leaving Shizuo to his own devices. He took the time in silence, eyes roaming the room. Though there was nothing immediately out of place, he was struck with an odd sense of melancholy. The air seemed stale, dead, and he was reminded once again of Ryuji Shibata, sitting on the same couch as he was just weeks ago. Not as dead then as he was now.

He began to peel off his clothes slowly, waistcoat first, before loosening his bowtie. The cuffs of his shirt were stained with red fingerprints, his own, as he pulled it over his head and ignored the pain of unsticking it from his bloody cut. A low, disapproving growl welled in his throat. Shizuo hated to see his clothes, specifically bought for him by his brother, wrecked beyond compare.

Just as he wondered what do with his dirty clothes, Hikari returned and solved the issue for him.

"Just leave them on the floor," she told him, "Any stains you leave will just blend in with the rest."

He did so wordlessly, the thump of them falling accompanied by the clang of a metal case against the coffee table. Opening it revealed a stash of medical supplies, though Hikari first took up a wet cloth.

"You don't have to." Shizuo reminded her.

"I know," she replied, smiling, "But why would I want to miss out on a chance to make you cry?"

He found himself relaxing back into the couch, his arm offered to her. As she began to wipe away the blood, Shizuo couldn't help but grin. "As if." He muttered.

As if to test him, Hikari began to press down hard around the edges of his wound. A glance told him that some of his blood had managed to stain her fingers, and watching her expression, he had to wonder about the lack of panic in her eyes. If anything, she seemed accustomed to this, as if it were a daily ritual.

"It looks pretty deep," she remarked coolly, "I could stitch it for you."

"You know how to do that?"

Hikari blinked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Oh, ah…" He had caught her off guard with the question, "Ryuji, um…well, I used to have to do this for Ryu a lot." Never mind that she hadn't seen her brother in years.

She prayed he didn't catch her out on the lie, and Shizuo seemed to let it pass as he nodded quietly. His arm tensed as Hikari's fingers held him down too tightly, a hiss of pain escaping through gritted teeth.

"Gentler!" Shizuo ordered.

"I'm being gentle!"

Hikari pressed down hard on his arm, irritated by his command. In response, his arm twitched and Shizuo fought to keep from tearing himself away from her. If he swung too wildly, there was a chance he could hit her or break something. Her grip remained firm, as unrelenting as her gaze.

"Good." she decided, as Shizuo managed to remain still for longer than a few seconds. Hikari paused for a second, reaching over to the medical kit and pulling out a small bottle. "The antiseptic might sting." She warned, eyeing him sidelong.

Shizuo shrugged. "Just do what you have to." It was odd to him, all of it, and not just because it was Ryuji's apartment, or Hikari's familiarity with this situation. What seemed most unusual to him was that, despite all that, he still didn't mind it so much.

The wound stung as she began to sterilize it, though Hikari sought dominance over all his senses. "I get the feeling being stabbed isn't that unusual for you, is it? Does this happen often?" she asked, distracting him briefly.

He frowned. "How often is _often_?"

"Once or twice a year, I guess."

Shizuo smiled, though it wasn't exactly a happy one. "Yeah, well then I guess it does."

She laughed, head thrown back, and he wondered if one person could really be that beautiful. He stared for as long as he could without being noticed, before turning his attention to the ceiling once more. Hikari leaned across to the kit once more, shoulders hiding it from sight.

"That really doesn't scare you, does it?" he realised.

"No, not really," she agreed, "Probably because I think you're cute."

His surprise showed for a second only. "Oh." What a dim-witted reply.

Fortunately, Hikari's smile seemed to say that it was okay, that she didn't expect an answering statement. He could have answered, had he needed to, but Shizuo would rather not even admit it to himself.

Once more, Hikari's fingers wound around his arm, constricting him. Shizuo glanced down, saw the needle and thread running through his skin, and looked back upwards. "Almost finished." She promised.

He nodded shortly, was silent as he considered his next words, before simply saying, "Thank you."

"No problem," Hikari dismissed him easily, busy concentrating on finishing up the stitches, "This'll cost you though."

"…Shouldn't you have mentioned that first?"

She shrugged lightly, offered an apologetic smile. "Probably, but you don't have to do it – I was going to ask you," Hikari paused, reaching across to swap the needle and thread for a bandage, "If you had the time, to show me around Ikebukuro."

Shizuo felt his breath seize, and he stalled for time by asking, "You don't know the area even after this long?"

"I know how to get from here to the supermarket and not much else." She admitted shamelessly, using her elbow to push back her ebony hair as she finished wrapping the wound.

Their eyes met accidently, a clash of colour, and he lost himself for a moment. Beneath the makeup, the bravado, was something so human he was compelled to answer with a short, concise, "Sure."

Hikari smiled widely. "Really? You don't have to."

Shizuo mastered his expression, kept his voice flat. "Yeah. It's no problem. I can meet you after work some time." He held her gaze for as long as possible, turning away the moment he felt self-consciousness threaten his composure.

It annoyed him that he couldn't seem to say no, as he thought he would have, and how he felt compelled to like her. She was not on his list of possible things, but Hikari looked far too happy for him to even consider other options. It would be impossible to take any of it back now.

* * *

 **Thank u for all your reviews! Here's to hoping this chapter (or the next) don't disappoint.**


	8. eight

_weak points / EIGHT_

When she next crossed his path, it was not at the hand of chance, but a design with more intent. Shizuo had seen her early that day after passing by her work, and there decided the time and place, and stuck to the plan with unusual punctuality. She never would have figured he would be the type; not that Hikari minded the surprise.

"So," she asked, not able to stand the silence for much longer, "Lunch first?"

Shizuo glanced at her, shrugged, and nothing more. Hikari took it as an agreement.

"Where?"

"Have you been to _Russia Sushi_ yet?" Shizuo asked, to which she shook her head. "Let's go there then."

Hikari had to walk quickly to keep up with his pace. As he led her deeper and deeper into Ikebukuro, the crowds grew thicker and she was happy to use that as an excuse for the silence. If she was too focused on keeping up with Shizuo, then it didn't leave much room for the real questions on her mind.

Shizuo didn't seem to have much to say either. As far as guides went, he was one of the least informative. He never pointed out to this and that, and who went where and what was new in the area, which Hikari had to concede was entirely typical of him.

"So," she asked at last, breaking the silence, "Have you seen the new Yuhei Hanajima movie?"

As she studied his reaction, Hikari was surprised to note a usual break in his composure. "…No." Shizuo acted as if his hesitation were completely normal.

"It's not that hard of a question." Hikari remarked coolly, letting her usual sweetness melt away to bitterness. It wasn't like she particularly cared about those types of movies either, but something - perhaps his resistance - compelled her to persist. "You have a problem with his movies or something?"

"It's not a question I want to answer." Shizuo answered bluntly. He could feel his fingers twitch, to which he forcibly willed them to be still so that Hikari might not notice.

If she did or didn't sense the tension, she showed no sign. Her only reply was to shrug, a carefree smile on her face, as she told him, "I'll just find out what that's about later anyway."

"What?"

"Nothing!"

"No, you just said-!"

"Oh, look, Heiwajima!" Hikari cut him off with an innocent grin, her fingers curling around his wrist, "You have an art studio here!"

There was not one part of her act that convinced him this wasn't a diversion, but the enthusiasm in her voice persuaded Shizuo not to care anyway. He was happy to go along with it if only to avoid the topic of his brother, although conceding also meant allowing himself to be dragged along like a dog on a leash. Hikari's path brought them out of the crowd and to the front of a large gallery, its doors wide open.

"You like this kind of stuff?" Shizuo wondered.

Hikari stepped inside first, her dark silhouette standing out against the pale walls. "Photography, mainly," She told him, glancing over her shoulder, "Coming?"

He nodded curtly, following her inside. The noise of the city outside seemed distant once within the walls the gallery, as if it were a different world. Looking at the way Hikari walked up and down the floors, pausing to consider each painting and photo, Shizuo could tell how comfortable she felt. It was a far cry from his own awkwardness, born from the fear that he might break anything he touched.

Shizuo caught her standing underneath a large canvas mounted to the wall, the image depicted being a painting of the Ikebukuro skyline. Blue skies mixed with the purple of a bruising sunset, set in contrast to the brilliant silver glow of the city lights.

"What do you think?" she asked him, tilting her own head in consideration. He shrugged half-heartedly, to which Hikari was quick to add, "You have to have some opinion on art. There isn't a person on earth who doesn't feel _something_ for it."

"…It's a nice picture, I guess?"

For all her urging, seeming so serious about wanting an answer, Hikari burst into laughter at his reply. Shizuo couldn't even find it within himself to be angry, too startled by the honesty of her smile. She was unapologetically the loudest thing in the gallery, even causing the woman behind the main desk to glance up curiously.

"Sorry," she giggled, forcing the words out, "Though it's a start, I suppose." Even through her amusement, Hikari had to admit that what she had been asking for might have been a little too personal for him.

She took a step towards him, and conscious of the distance, Shizuo followed up with a step further away. Hikari continued to press him forward, walking him around the gallery. He had no eye for art, and Shizuo amused himself by watching his companion instead.

Hikari seemed so animated as she observed each picture, even despite her expression being nothing but cool. Looking at her now, seeing the light in her gentle smile, the consideration in her eyes, Shizuo realised just how lacking she was in almost any other setting. It was as if she lost her vivacity, and something seemed to drain all the spirit from her – a voice in the back of his mind told him it had to do with Ryuji. That sort of grief, though not knowing it himself, certainly seemed to explain her erratic habits and lacklustre expressions.

If it ever occurred to Shizuo that his interest in Hikari was extremely uncharacteristic, he didn't let it show. More pressing questions seemed to overwhelm his own doubts. Wanting to know more about this side of Hikari, Shizuo asked, "So, you like art?" It was a stupid question, but how else could he start the conversation?

"Absolutely," Hikari agreed, "If I wasn't a model, then I would probably be a photographer. As it is, I'll probably try to pursue photography when my manager leaves me for a client more committed to their work."

The image of the silly-faced Ishikawa popped into his mind, distracting Shizuo. The lapse in control had him speaking his mind, admitting thoughtlessly, "I don't think the commitment is an issue with you."

Hikari glanced up, stepping away from a large, framed photograph. "You don't?"

"I mean," Shizuo scratched his cheek, feeling awkward once more, "You work hard for Old Lady Oriku. I don't think your other job would be any different to you."

"So if it's not my work ethic, then what are you suggesting is my problem?"

Shizuo scowled. "That's not what I meant." He argued, not taking it to heart.

"I know, but I do have some issues."

"Obviously."

"Hey! You should be offering me support, Heiwajima." Hikari ordered, crossing her arms and pouting. The moment Shizuo began to consider how cute she looked, he started walking towards the gallery's exit. She followed without a second thought, adding, "Do you think you know me well enough to insult? Even though we're still on a last name basis?"

Shizuo shrugged. "Would you mind if I called you Hikari then?"

The dark haired woman mirrored his nonchalance, smiling affably. "You can if you want."

In fact, they would both secretly prefer it. Hikari wanted to escape the stiffness of formality – by extent, also meaning she wanted to be Shizuo's friend – while he, in turn, wanted to be rid of the name he had always associated with her brother. Ryuji Shibata had been a man with presence, and death could neither shake his memory so easily, nor so soon afterwards.

"Okay," Shizuo grunted, "And you can call me by my first name."

They had stepped back out into the Ikebukuro streets midway through the exchange. A warm sun filtered through leaves and thick city ear to project sunlit shapes on their skin. Hikari stuck close to his shadow, chasing his footsteps.

"Where to now?" she asked, neck craned to peer up at her guide.

Shizuo nodded towards a bench in the distance. "To eat," he answered, "But first, to get a drink. You go sit there and wait."

"Gladly – so long as you aren't just lying and planning to run off and ditch me."

The possibility did enter his mind, but only after she suggested it. Catching her perplexed stare, Shizuo remained frozen to the spot, guilt settling in his heart for even considering it. It wasn't like he was having a bad time showing her around anyway.

"Well, _Shizuo_?" Hikari said, over-enunciating his name for effect. He couldn't take his eyes off the movement of her lips.

"Ah-"

The strange whinny of a distant motorcycle cut him off, saving him from whatever misfortune Hikari was planning to instigate. It was the familiar sound that, though it caught him off guard, could hardly be considered that surprising. He knew the rider as a friend, and had grown accustomed to the sight of the sleek black bike and the woman riding it shooting around corners in Ikebukuro.

Hikari followed his gaze to the street, watching the motorcycle cut around the corner and coast down the street. She wasn't sure as to the point of his interest, until its rider seemed to tilt their head towards them and pulled up beside them on the street.

"This's someone you should meet." Shizuo announced.

He stepped towards the rider, a figure that looked to be a woman dressed all in black, head covered by a yellow and blue helmet. The visor was tinted to dark nothing underneath could be seen, and adding to that the peculiarity of the cat ears, Hikari found herself immensely curious about this person.

The rider said nothing as Shizuo approached, only held out her PDA to read.

 _"Hey, Shizuo."_

"Celty," He greeted in turn, before the two turned their attention to Hikari. She almost took a step back, intimidated, only for Shizuo to introduce her quicker than she could run away. "This is Hikari Shibata."

" _Oh? Nice to meet you, I'm Celty."_ The reply was, once again, typed out on the rider's PDA. Hikari had to wonder if this woman had a voice, or if muteness was a choice in this case.

"Nice to meet you too, Celty." Hikari answered, her thought hidden behind a polite smile. She and the rider shook hands briefly, before the woman returned to typing on her PDA.

She held it out for them to read. " _Shibata? Are you related to Ryuji Shibata then?"_

"Siblings." Shizuo answered shortly.

Hikari rolled her eyes. "I could have answered for myself, you know." Shizuo caught her glare, shrugging apathetically in light of it.

Celty finished her furiously fast typing, holding out her PDA once more. " _I was sad to hear about his death. He was a good man."_

Though she nodded, her expression appropriately sombre, Hikari's thoughts lay elsewhere. "Yeah," she agreed, finding herself leaning forward, drawn in by her own curiosity.

Hikari ended up so close to Celty that she was almost hitting her helmet with her forehead, yet even then the rider didn't pull away. In fact, she hardly seemed to mind the scrutiny, as Hikari peered through the visor of the helmet and tried to make out what lay behind.

The few seconds of uncomfortable silence were broken by Shizuo's curt, "Hikari."

The dark haired woman felt herself jerk backwards, her sense of propriety recovered in a blink. "Sorry," she blurted, "That was a bit rude."

" _It's fine. I don't mind."_

Whispers stirred in the back of her mind, a strange suspicion. Hikari couldn't stop herself from wondering at this strange woman before her. The evidence was incontrovertible; Celty had no voice, and it led Hikari to suspect that the lack of that might also suggest the lack of something much more significant. Only darkness had stirred in the depths of the helmet.

Celty held out her PDA again, for both Hikari and Shizuo to read. " _If anything, I'm the one being rude for interrupting your date like this."_

The suggestion turned Shizuo's cheeks pink, and he didn't dare look to Hikari to see her own reaction. "It's not a date." He huffed, knowing Celty wouldn't be convinced by such a half-hearted retort.

It would take Hikari's confirmation to clear up the misunderstanding – and she was never going to give it to him that easily.

"Aw, Shizuo, you're blushing!" Hikari enthused, smiling devilishly, "What's wrong with Celty knowing the truth?"

" _So it IS a date?!"_ Celty asked.

Shizuo could feel his irritation mounting. "It's not!" he insisted, teeth gritted together to suppress the string of slurs on his tongue.

"He just doesn't want to admit it." Hikari assured to Celty, leaning in conspiringly.

"Would you just go wait over on the bench?" Shizuo demanded, adding at her defiant stare, "I'll be there in a bit."

"With a drink?"

"With a drink." He promised irritably.

Hikari pretended to consider it, only to conclude with an inevitable shrug, "Don't be too long."

He and Celty watched her retreat, both taking in her silhouette. She looked better than he had seen her in a while, less sallow-faced, and more prone to good humour; not to mention how good her legs looked when she wore heels.

Celty broke the silence first. " _She seems nice, Shizuo. Is it really not a date?"_

"It's not." He affirmed, grumbling slightly.

The rider's posture still seemed inclined to hesitate. " _Still,"_ Celty said again, " _I really shouldn't intrude much longer. I have a delivery, and you have to go buy her a drink."_

"Yeah." He shoved his hands into his pockets, growing uncomfortable standing there complacently.

Celty sat up straighter, preparing to leave, and her movement prompted Shizuo to begin to turn away. He hesitated as she began to type on her PDA once more, waiting a few seconds to see what she had to say.

" _Just a tip: Hikari seems like she'd like coffee."_

"…Oh," the roar of Celty's bike filled the gap between his words, "Thanks."

But the rider had already taken off, zipping into the first gap in traffic and assuming her place on the road. Shizuo wasn't as bothered by it as he might have been, and instead began to search for the vending machine he had spotted earlier. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Hikari waiting on the bench he had pointed out earlier. Her eyes were lowered to the phone in her hands, hair hanging forward so that he could hardly catch a glimpse of her expression. He gave up after a second, turning his attention towards buying them drinks.

Shizuo would never know the annoyance written on her face in that moment, the sigh that left her lips. Hikari didn't much mind the wait, and it certainly wasn't the company that had been annoying her – it was the several missed calls from her manager that irked her nerves.

She had absolutely no intention of calling him back, not until a few more hours had passed at least. Ishikawa was, she thought, far more trivial than Shizuo Heiwajima. Especially when the later of the two was the one buying her a drink. It was then, before her thoughts progressed any deeper, that a shadow fell across her figure and disturbed Hikari from her revere.

"Oh, well would you look who it is."

The sudden voice intruding upon her solitude, as reaffirmed by a brief glance, did not belong to Shizuo as she hoped it did. "Miss Hikari Shibata, it's a pleasure to see you again." The dark haired man announced, smiling friendlily.

"Izaya Orihara." Hikari greeted him coolly in return, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

If he sensed the shift in her manner from their initial meeting, he failed to let it show. "So you remembered." He said, and at her apathy, persisted anyway, "So you're not working today?"

"Wouldn't you know the answer to that already?" she retorted, "Being a stalker and all."

"A stalker?"

She smiled, holding up a hand to stop him before he could continue on. "Oh, but you have a different name for it," she amended, "Information broker, isn't it?"

Izaya could feel his expression betray him, a brow raised in curiosity. "I see you looked into who I was." He told her, but she had already returned to her phone.

"I can't just ignore people as odd as you are in a place like this." Hikari remarked, not taking her eyes off the screen. If she acted this way to annoy him, it might just end up working.

"No, you certainly can't." Izaya agreed, smiling curiously. He studied her as he stood there, watching for a sign of interest, an affirmation that she was just the same type of person as he thought she was, and found an allusion to the idea in the pursing of her lips and the flicker of her eyes as she made to surreptitiously glance across at him.

The silence began to stretch thin, sheer like a spider's web, so delicate it was almost too easy to break. "I feel inclined to warn you, seeing as how you don't seem to get along," Hikari told him, "That Shizuo-"

She hardly needed to finish her sentence – not when a projectile launched their way concluded it for her.

Izaya took a step back, and the soda can went hurtling past his head and shattered on the ground behind them. "Let me guess," he remarked coolly, "Shizu-chan's with you."

" _I-za-ya!"_

Hikari nodded curtly. Though she didn't look to be in the least bit fazed by the impending fight, Shizuo's shout had at last caused her to look up from her phone. She spotted him in the distance, reaching down towards the vending machine he stood by. Not good, she thought, lamenting the loss of her drink.

"Miss Shibata." Izaya Orihara's peculiar voice cut right through her thoughts, and she was surprised to find his hands on her arm, pulling her too her feet. He smiled, his face much too close for comfort. "Would you mind coming with me for a bit?"

"Wha-?!"

Hikari's voice was stolen from her lips, just as her choice was taken from her hands in a single moment of urgency and action. Izaya had lurched forward into a run without waiting for an answer, and as his grip remained unyielding on her wrist, she found herself dragged along with him. Panic seized her heart, and she could do nothing but comply. She didn't even think of the phone she dropped in a clatter, only of keeping up with Izaya's mad dash through the crowd, across a crowded street and road full of busy traffic.

A loud crash echoed behind her, the mark of Shizuo's destructive capabilities, while his voice rang out in a mimic of Hikari's likeminded thoughts. " _You damn flea!"_

Through the tangle of world, of the Ikebukuro streets, Hikari wondered just what sort of a mess she was being dragged into now.

* * *

 **Izaya sticking his nose where it's not needed - like usual.**

 **Hopefully the next few chapters start to build up a little tension and pace, but who knows. I've never really written such a plot-orientated story before, so I'm learning.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	9. nine

_weak points / NINE_

"You know, I was really only hoping for one thing today," Hikari sighed, fingers pressed to her temples, "And that would be a nice, peaceful afternoon."

Seated across from her, separated by the distance of a desk, a dark haired man named Izaya Orihara smiled back at her. He didn't care about her day, about what she thought she wanted and needed, only her reaction as he asked, "And you thought you'd find that by hanging around Shizuo Heiwajima?"

Her lips were pursued, her brow furrowed, and underneath the makeup, tension lay building. "More so than I would with you." Hikari retorted, her eyes flashing angrily as she glanced up quickly.

It was amusing to him to watch her. Izaya felt that he could, in part, understand that stupid man's infatuation with the woman. She lacked neither beauty nor wit, only a sense of vivacity that robbed Izaya of the attraction he usually felt towards humans. What he really would have loved to know was who had stolen it from her.

As their acquaintanceship continued to develop, the two of them tore at each other until appearances could no longer be kept. There came a turning point – and it was probably when Hikari found out about his disreputable business – when neither could be bothered putting on act, and the mutual agreement came with a strange sense of apathy. There was no reason for the other to use these truths against them, so what did it matter if they saw ecah other's true colours?

"So?" Hikari asked, slumped in the chair across from him, "Why'd you drag me here?"

"Partly to ruin Shizuo's date." Izaya admitted shamelessly.

Her roving eyes paused in their inspection of his office, only to fix him with a hard stare. "Not a date."

"Oh?" He was smiling now, "It looked like one to me."

"Well, it wasn't."

"Then what was it?"

Hikari's posture changed within moments, her lips mirroring his pleasant smile as she began to lean forward conspiringly. She came to lean across his desk, elbows down so that she could rest her chin in her palm. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Why does it matter to _you_?"

They could have gone on like that forever, if not for Hikari's thin-worn patience. She would much rather have still been with Shizuo, and for that, Izaya would have to suffer through her irritation. "Well, Izaya Orihara," she began slowly, "If you're that curious to know the truth, perhaps we could trade?"

He didn't deny his interest. "A trade of what?"

"Information, obviously."

"Oh, obviously." He mocked her, amused by her confidence and self-assuredness. Hikari crossed her arms, growing defensive at once, and it was well that she kept herself guarded as his next words were, "Why should I want to know anything from you when I could just find it out myself?"

"…Information on my half," she corrected herself, erasing her mistakes so as to avoid embarrassment, "And whatever it is someone like you would want."

"You could always pay for my services."

Admittedly, she liked that idea the best; money was something she understood. "I wouldn't mind."

The smile on her face was far too content for his liking, and one look had Izaya changing his mind. "Okay, well, I'll give you the information you want and in return, you'll owe me a debt of equal worth." He declared – and before Hikari could protest, he had grabbed hand from across the table and shaken it enthusiastically. " _Deal_?"

She hastily pulled her hand back to her lap. "Well, I don't get a choice now, do I?" Hikari muttered, blowing at some of the black hair webbed across her face.

Izaya ignored her question, obvious in his manner as he reclined back on his chair and swivelled around to the side. While he seemed to look out the window, Hikari took the time to study his profile. Dark haired, slim, and maybe even attractive, if not for the reprehensibility of his cunning personality. Through the rumours she had heard, Hikari figured she had enough of a character profile to decide that they weren't so far from the truth – Izaya Orihara was, at the very least, someone she had to watch out for.

"So, what is it you want to know about?" He wondered at last, distracted by the phone in his hands. He found it funny to mock her with the same apathy she had met him with earlier, and watching Hikari from the edges of his vision, it certainly seemed to be working well.

Hikari pressed her lips together, a finger tapping agitatedly against her cheek. Even though she wasn't sure about wanting to say it, she persevered. "Ryuji Shibata."

His immediate reaction, one of stiffening shoulders and surprise, was not what she had expected of him. "Ryuji Shibata?" Izaya spun in his chair, facing his guest with a delighted grin, "My, my; now that's a surprise."

"What?"

"That's not the first time someone's asked me about him."

" _What?"_

Izaya's smile spread wider, while Hikari began to lean away from him. It betrayed a switch the positions of power, one which favoured him more so than her. "Now I see," He announced, seeming to muse to himself, "All the points align – it was just the one person all along."

Hikari's fingers closed in a fist, her nails biting into her palms. Already, regret had come back to sting her for acting so recklessly. She never should have confided in Izaya – that was her first mistake.

The black haired man continued speaking without regard for anyone else. "I'm curious to know why Ryuji never made a mention of having family as charming as you, _Nise."_

Her expression soured at his words, all chances of civility washing away. Izaya hardly considered it a loss.

"Just one person…?" Hikari muttered, thinking to herself.

"I'll let you guess the answer."

"If you know my online name, and about Ryuji, then I'm guessing you're _Kanra."_ she concluded it simply. She refrained from making a big deal out of it, her attention consumed by concerns much more significant. "…You know more about my brother than you let on online, don't you?"

"That would be part of my job, yes," Izaya admitted, "I hired him for his services as a transporter from time to time. Not anymore, obviously, considering someone murdered him."

She had heard the expression before, coined the same phrasing herself, but it was the blasé tone of voice that drove Hikari to say, "Orihara, before we go any further, I want to get something off my chest."

His brow rose. "Sure."

"I think I might just fucking hate you."

She delivered the declaration coolly, not with the violence and vehemence he was used to. Rather than a threat, it was a fact; and with a conviction as stone-like as hers seemed Izaya couldn't be bothered trying to move the immoveable.

"Fine," he shrugged, making light of it, "It doesn't change that you still want my help."

"...No, it doesn't." she sighed.

"Then I can tell you that I met Ryuji in a number of sketchy circumstances. It wasn't said in so many words, but there were some pretty bad rumours going around about him."

"I don't care about that," Hikari told him, shaking her head, "What I really want to know is who killed him."

"That, I don't know."

She pursued her lips, muttering under her breath, "Then what am I here for?"

" _But_ I can find out for you."

"In exchange for the favour?" Hikari ventured, rubbing her temples.

"Right." He agreed.

Her expression grew hopeful at his dismissiveness. "So I can leave now?"

Ever eager to disappoint, Izaya smiled, "Not yet." He slid a notepad and pen across the desk towards her. "Write down your number and email so I can contact you," he explained, "A transporter should be here any second to take you home."

"A transporter? Orihara, I don't really need-"

"Don't argue, Miss Shibata. After all, you dropped your phone earlier in the park," he neglected to take the blame for that accident, "So you can't very well call a taxi. Consider this repayment for forcing you to skip lunch."

The tip of the pen stilled above the paper, Hikari glancing up sceptically. "You could have repaid me by letting me borrow your phone to call a taxi."

"Only there would be no difference between that and Celty."

"Celty?" The image of the woman on the bike popped into her head.

Izaya confirmed it for her. "You met her earlier," his offhanded comment revealed for just how long he had been watching her and Shizuo earlier that day, but he continued on flippantly "She should be here – oh, Celty!"

Looking over her shoulder in response to his exclamation, Hikari spotted the woman in question standing by the door. She kept her helmet on, even inside, and given the lack of a face, the only recognition of surprise to be shown from Celty was in the jerk of shoulders, a posture that immediately moved from deflated to attentive.

"I want you to take her home," Izaya announced, "And you should probably stop somewhere so that Miss Shibata has a chance to eat something today."

Celty marched over, her PDA out so that she could type, " _I'm not a taxi service."_

"According to him, there's no difference," Hikari interjected, "I'm sorry for the trouble."

" _It's not your fault,"_ Celty told her kindly, before erasing the text and replacing it with a message for Izaya, " _Can you pay?"_

From some drawer hidden from their line of sight, Izaya drew out a small envelope and handed it over. Celty counted the money in silence, before nodding in seeming approval and tucking it away inside her top. " _Let's go."_ was the message she had for Hikari when she next held out her PDA.

Hikari nodded, standing gratefully.

But for as happy as she was to leave, Hikari figured she should take advantage of this opportunity to ask Izaya one more question. He watched her turn back to him, greeting her with a curious smile.

"Orihara, can I ask one more thing?"

"Go ahead."

"Why does Shizuo hate talking about Yuhei Hanajima?"

Orihara grinned, seeming close to laughter. "Oh, that's too easy. I'll give you that answer for free – it's because they're brothers."

Hikari tilted her head, taking a moment to process it. "…Oh," she muttered, before nodding, "That makes sense." Reflecting on it now, knowing that, she could certainly see a certain familial resemblance between them.

Celty's few steps towards the door brought Hikari back to the present. She ended the conversation with a hard look, a casual, chilling comment that came when she paused by the door. "Thank you, Orihara. Just don't make me wait too long."

"Just be patient," he told her, smiling eerily, "You can always count on me."

Celty, with a hand on Hikari's shoulder, guided her out the doorway of Izaya's office without waiting for another word. There was a shared eagerness to be gone from his presence, and it was just as well they did leave so that Izaya might never hear Hikari's muttered, "I'll count on you to be a fucking nuisance."

The comment amused Celty to the point of laughter, though Hikari was oblivious to unseeable and inaudible fact. Not knowing, the dark haired woman went on to say, "I don't actually expect you to take me home, you know. You can keep your money, and I'll just walk."

Celty yanked out her PDA within seconds. " _It'll be dark soon though!"_

She shrugged lightly. "Doesn't bother me." And it was the honest truth, backed up by more than just nerves of steel, but many years of, albeit unconventional, self-defence lessons.

" _I'll take you anyway,"_ Celty told her, not giving in an inch, " _What address?"_

"Same building as where Shizuo lives." Celty, as was indicated by her nod, seemed to know the place. Whether it was exhaustion or the natural charm of the biker, Hikari amazed even herself by trying to strike up a genuine conversation. "I'm his neighbour, actually, since I moved into Ryuji's old place."

" _Wh-?"_ Celty quickly backspaced as Hikari kept talking, changing the message to, " _Isn't it weird to live there after your brother died?"_

"Oh, not really."

" _How come?"_

Hikari considered the question as they walked into the street. A soft veil of pink, laced with a brilliant, burning red, had settled over the blue of the sky. Ikebukuro was bathed in a new light, and in this evening hour, the world seemed quiet. Hikari was certain, if she waited a bit longer, the city would once again be bursting with the nightlife.

Perhaps it was the lull in the world that caught her feeling safe, but Hikari eventually decided Celty's question was innocent enough to answer truthfully. "He…Ryuji and I had our problems, and we hadn't spoken for a few years at the time," Hikari admitted, hiding her expression, "I guess I just feel closer to him, being there."

Although post-mortem might be too late to heal their relationship, she did try her best anyway. Just as the morbidity of her thoughts threatened to overwhelm Hikari, something cool hit her arm. Glancing down, she discovered it was a helmet Celty was handing her. With a quiet thanks, she accepted it and pulled it over her head.

The rider climbed onto her bike first, blending seamlessly with the vehicle in her jumpsuit. Following her lead, Hikari climbed on after her, winding her arms around the other woman's waist. She could fell her heart in her throat as, even though it wasn't her first time on a motorbike, there was no word of warning from Celty before the engine, for lack of a better word, _whinnied_ to life and they had taken off into the streets.

As the lights of Ikebukuro bled into one another, Hikari was left tightening her grip on the woman sitting in front of her. She hoped Celty didn't mind, but being driven around by a stranger didn't exactly inspire a sense of ease in her. It was some comfort, she supposed, to remember how Shizuo seemed to like and trust Celty.

A chill wind bit into her skin, even from underneath her jacket and jeans. Thankfully, Hikari found herself relieved from the cold shortly after. As her thoughts had wandered while they drove the ten minutes that had passed seemed so little to her that she was surprised to find Celty slowing down so soon.

When she at last pulled up into a park neither of them moved from bike until Celty had used her PDA to say to Hikari, " _We'll stop to get food here."_

Her surprise was marked with wide-eyes and a soft smile. "You don't have to. I can wait until we get home."

The phone appeared over Celty's shoulder once again. " _Izaya is the one paying. He gave me extra in my payment for this, so we may as well make the most of it."_

"If you really want to." Hikari conceded with a shrug, admittedly a little too drained to deal with arguing. Talking with Izaya Orihara, no matter how interesting a conversation, always strained her nerves.

With that, the two women slipped off the bike and Hikari pulled her helmet off as well as she good for something so bulky. Celty accepted the spare, and yet again refrained from taking her own helmet off.

"Where to…?"

Celty waved her hand towards a shop nearby, a wordless answer that preluded her actually walking away in the same direction. Hikari caught up easily and kept pace, even despite the surprise on her face as she read the name of the restaurant.

" _Russia Sushi?_ " she muttered, "Who'd have thought."

" _Is something the matter?"_ Celty asked, turning towards her.

Hikari shook her head, her smile blooming in genuine amusement. "This was where Shizuo suggested having lunch. I just think it's a weird coincidence that you'd take me here."

Celty shrugged, as if to say _oh._ It was neither indifferent nor concerned by it, not that Hikari minded such apathy. They entered the restaurant without further conversation, Celty leading them towards the seats at the bar.

In the expectantly peculiar way of Ikebukuro, Hikari found herself being greeted by a tall, dark-skinned man with sturdy build. She stared up unapologetically, scrutinizing his terrifying stature juxtaposed with his kind smile.

"Welcome to _Russia Sushi_ ," he greeted them both in a heavy, Russian accent, "What can I get for you?"

"Oh, ah…" Hikari fumbled for her words, and was spared the embarrassment of not knowing by Celty's cautious hand on her shoulder.

She answered the imposing Russian for her, the PDA presented in one hand. The man squinted as he read it, before grinning and clapping his hands together. "Sushi and sake coming up!" he announced loudly, turning away to pass the order on to an older man working alongside him.

There was something, a dynamic of sorts, between the people in Ikebukuro that left Hikari feeling out of place. More strongly than ever, she was inclined towards loneliness at the familiarity of the people living here, and that place at her side which her brother might have filled was nothing but a gaping chasm in comparison. She might have lost her composure completely if it weren't for Celty's timely intrusion.

" _His name is Simon. He and another older Russian named Dennis own this place."_

"Explains the name." Hikari remarked.

" _It's almost as unorthodox as their sushi."_ Celty told her.

Hikari was adverse to the word; it made her uneasy. "Unorthodox…?"

Celty moved as if she were laughing, though it might simply have been a shrug. " _You'll see."_

"I don't know if I want to." Hikari muttered, pulling an exaggerated face.

Her comment, however low spoken, caught the dark-skinned Russian's attention. He spun, wearing the same, gentle smile as before, and declared in a booming voice, "Sushi is good for you! Especially Russian sushi!"

Her eyes slid to the woman beside her, an enigma who sat comfortably in her seat. And no matter how faceless, no matter how voiceless Celty might be, Hikari knew that she would be right to guess her smile would be mirrored back at her with the same honest sentiments – whether it was possible or not. In Ikebukuro, such things as reason hardly seemed to matter.

* * *

 **I keep forgetting to post... What I can I say? School is all consuming and I fell back into the One Piece trap and started another fic (but who knows if I'll ever finish it).**

 **Thanks for reading and please feel free to leave a review or critique :)**


	10. ten

_weak points_ / _TEN_

As he waited by the doors of his apartment building, drawing in deep, nicotine breaths, Shizuo was painfully aware of just how similar a scene this was to when he first met her. He could hardly separate the differences from similarities. Day to night, a fresh cigarette held to replace the last he had smoked that day he came across Hikari Shibata.

Still, even thinking of it that way, Shizuo knew he didn't really know much more about her than he did then. He had no excuse for wanting to know more, but at least had a convenient lie on hand for when she eventually returned home. If she asked, he would simply say he was waiting to return the phone he had found she'd dropped earlier that day – when Izaya, the damn flea, had kidnapped her.

Even just the thought of that man's smug face had Shizuo irritated. More than usual, as well. Though it was uncharacteristic, Shizuo was still brooding over the disappointment of having Hikari stolen away from him. He had, in a realization that surprised even himself, been looking forward to spending a few hours alone with her.

She had grown to mean something more to him than just 'Ryuji's sister', and it was a something he had decided he would like to know everything about.

It was then, amidst the noise of the city, that Shizuo caught snatches of a familiar sound. Glancing up and studying the street laid out either side of him, he found the exact sight he had expected to.

Like a flickering shadow, Celty emerged from the traffic to pull into clear view of the building. Faceless as she was, a helmet worn instead of a head, Shizuo could feel his skin begin to prickle with sensation of her direct attention. Even so, he made no move to meet her as the rider slowed to a stop at the side of the street.

He was content to stand there and smoke, the hit of nicotine as close to bliss as he was ever likely to get, while watching the scene unfold. It wouldn't have been so unusual if not for Celty's passenger, a slender woman who Shizuo immediately recognised to be Hikari Shibata, through the familiarity of her own self-possessed way of moving.

Climbing off the parked bike, Hikari confirmed his guess to be true as she freed herself of the helmet and shook her ebony hair loose. Her emerald eyes caught the light as she turned, gaze clashing with his, lips curving in a smile.

"Shizuo!" she greeted him happily, more enthusiastic than usual with that added wave of her hand.

He left the space of the street between them, instead waiting for her and Celty to finish whatever business it was they had together. If it was his place, he might even question why they had business together in the first place.

"It was really nice to get to know you, Celty," Hikari was saying, handing the helmet back to the rider, "Thank you very much for the meal."

Celty was quick to reply, PDA held out to read. " _It was nice to meet you too, Hikari. I actually had a good time."_

"You didn't think you would?" Hikari replied, before shaking her head and adding, "Well, actually, that's understandable considering who it was who asked you take this job."

Celty nodded in agreement but pursued the subject no further. She was wise not to considering who was standing in close proximity to them. " _Ah, but Shizuo seems to be waiting for you so I should probably get home myself."_

"If you're that eager." Hikari said, a smile budding on her lips. The two looked ready to turn away from each other without another word, and it was with that intention that Hikari began to move away. It wasn't until the last moment that, even catching herself by surprise, she looked back and added, "Oh, and Celty, I wouldn't mind doing this again with you."

Even though the woman's reply was a simple, plain nod, there was a many-worded meaning behind it which needed no saying to be understood. It was part of the mutual understanding the two of them had built, despite their acquaintanceship being numbered in hours, but it was enough for Hikari.

Without another word, needing no goodbye after that agreement, Celty was tearing out into the Ikebukuro streets once more. As quick as she came, as quick as she went; Hikari had an inkling it would always be like that with her.

Left with no other options, Hikari crossed the two steps it took to bring her close to Shizuo. He had watched them silently from behind his sunglasses, blowing smoke from between his lips in heavy silence.

"I'm glad you introduced me to Celty," Hikari announced first, "It's been a while since I've been able to talk with another woman as if she were a friend."

At first glance, there seemed to be nothing different about her countenance. Hikari seemed entirely unruffled by the entirety of her strange day, and Shizuo might have believed it if he hadn't been so perturbed by her unnatural cheerfulness. It was hard to tell, given how well she wore her mask, but Hikari seemed to be acting much more genuinely than usual.

"That doesn't say much for your social life." Shizuo replied dryly.

"No," she agreed, "It really doesn't. But then again, you're the one standing out here all alone."

"Waiting." He grunted.

"For who?"

"You."

"Oh." She couldn't tease him for that. "Why?" Hikari asked instead.

Shizuo reached into his pocket, drawing out her phone and presenting it to her. "You dropped this earlier." Plain and simple; so long as she didn't press him for a more reasonable excuse.

Hikari took her phone with a smile. "Thank you."

He shrugged, playing it cool and replying, "Your manager's called you twice since you lost it."

"That man," she sighed, her expression falling into something more bittersweet, "He really doesn't know when to quit."

Hikari's face lit up with the glow of her phone's light as she scrolled quickly through her messages. Shizuo watched and waited, lifting the smoke to his lips as he studied her own. He could feel his attention wandering, and it wasn't until she glanced up at him that he recovered his senses.

The cigarette fell to the ground, crushed under his foot. "Come on." Shizuo declared, turning on his heel and beginning to walk up to their apartment building.

"What? Where to?"

Shizuo stopped, one hand holding the door open, to turn back and say, "There's something I want you to see."

Hikari hurried inside, welcoming the warmth of the building. The door shut behind them, with Shizuo's footsteps echoing after hers.

"Seeing as how your tour got…" He tried to think of a word that wouldn't irritate him.

"Cut short?" Hikari supplied.

He nodded absently. "This's at least one thing I'll get right."

They began the usual trip up the stairs, Shizuo's longer legs putting him a few steps in front of his dark haired companion. She followed curiously, more intent upon not falling over than she was on her appearance. Perhaps it was those few cups of sake taking effect.

"In my opinion, Shizuo, you haven't done anything wrong."

"Huh? How's that?"

"Well," Hikari met his curious look with an effervescent smile, "If you ask me, the one who ruined today for us was Izaya Orihara."

" _Tch."_

Hikari stared at the sudden tension permeating the air around Shizuo. His hands had curled into fists at the very name. "…You don't like him." She guessed.

Shizuo smiled dangerously, as if trying to mask a feeling completely contradictory. "Next time I see that damn flea, I plan on killing him."

"Oh?" Hikari wondered if there was some sort of backstory there, though hesitated to ask as much.

Swinging to the side, Shizuo paused on the steps. Their gazes clashed, and she found herself rooted to the spot by his intensity. "Don't get involved with him." He warned her lowly.

It was too late for that, Hikari thought as she nodded along anyway. She figured, considering the hatred and near tangible lack of control Shizuo was trying to get a handle on, that it would be better to appease him rather than aggravate.

Hikari cast about for the first topic to come to mind, changing the subject before his mood grew any worse. In doing so, she ended up asking, "Shizuo, where _are_ we going?" They had passed their apartment floor two flights of stairs ago.

"The rooftop." He admitted, confirming her suspicions.

She could feel one eyebrow arch, betraying her speculation. She was tight-lipped until they reached a door at the top of the stairs, which Shizuo wrenched open with an unnatural amount of ease. He held it open for her, allowing a cool wind to sweep inside the building and freeze her skin even before she had made it out onto the rooftop.

A flat expanse of concrete lay before her, framed by a fence no higher than her waist. The door slammed shut behind them as Shizuo followed her to the edge of the building. Hikari could feel her heartbeat shaking her ribs as her fingers found the barrier, tempted to look down but scared to at the same time.

A dawning night stretched out before them, a sky swelling with blues, blacks, and the last few traces of an indigo sunset. Above, the stars seemed so small, pinpricks compared to the glow of the city underneath. All at once, the painting from the art gallery, the one Shizuo had termed as _nice,_ sprung to mind. Was this what the artist had seen as he had painted?

"Do you like it?" Shizuo asked, coming to stand behind her.

Hikari was grinning without even knowing it. "Are you kidding?" she asked, glancing back and pinning Shizuo down with the sheer force of her happiness, "I love it!"

He glanced away, hoping the cool night's air would steal away any traces of a burning blush. "…Good," he muttered, "I figured you might – Ryuji used to come up here a lot as well."

"Oh? He did?" Hikari's voice was quieter and meeker than she expected of herself. "…Shizuo, do you mind if ask what he was like?"

She had turned back to the skyline, so she didn't see him jerk in surprise. "As his sister, shouldn't you know that already?" he wondered.

"I mean, how he seemed to you, how you met, all that. Because I hadn't seen him, and I had hardly spoken to him, in two years, I couldn't really tell but…" Hikari forced herself to ask it, "Was he happy here?"

Here was one thing Shizuo most definitely did not want to fuck up. He took his time considering it, thinking back over everything he knew of his friend. It surprised him to realise the amount of small, minute details he could recall, and saddened him to know he could hardly remember what he could never have imagined once forgetting; things like the sound of his voice, or the colour of his eyes.

"When I first met him, I can't exactly say I liked him all that much," Shizuo confessed at last, "He spilt my own drink on me, accidently, but refused to apologise. It took four of my punches to knock him out."

"Well, Ryuji was always thick-skinned." Hikari agreed, making light of the situation. It was made even more amusing to her knowing, from that one night spent watching him at work, that even just a single punch from Shizuo was what it normally took to floor someone.

"Right, he was stubborn; just like you," Shizuo agreed absently, before continuing on, "Anyway, after that Tom and I waited until he woke up and helped him back to his apartment – that's how I found out we were neighbours. And after that, there were a few coincidences where we met up accidently and I helped him out in a fight and vice reverse or whatever it is."

"Vice versa."

Shizuo huffed, feigning dignity. He had known the phrase, but found his thoughts muddled by her presence. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm shit with this stuff." He muttered.

Hikari was watching him carefully over her shoulder, hip resting against the barrier that kept her falling to the street below. Her arching brows, the pout of her lips and brightness of black-rimmed eyes was startling to him against the backdrop, and he had to remind himself that Hikari was, after all, a model. That made his attraction to her more reasonable, right?

"You're not really – and even if you were, I'd still thank you Shizuo. It makes me really glad to hear someone talk about Ryuji like that." She told him, smiling softly.

He frowned, wished for a cigarette to make him feel more comfortable. "My point is, I suppose," Shizuo persisted, "That Ryuji had a place here and he fit in well. I guess that, for some people, is happiness."

She could feel her lip begin to tremble, and she bit it to keep the emotions at bay. It was the night, she told herself, and the three cups of sake from earlier.

"Thank you," she murmured again, her voice strained, "I haven't had the chance to talk about Ryuji with anyone since he died."

Again, Shizuo got the impression that Hikari's life was an extremely lonely one. He knew, from his time with Ryuji, that their parents had both passed a few years back. And, if nothing else, these Shibata siblings had a penchant for driving people away. Whether it be Ryuji's stoic standoffishness or Hikari's talent for keeping herself emotionally distant, it was a challenge to get close to either of them. Shizuo was simply lucky in that regard, to know them both as friends.

Studying her, Shizuo caught the glimmer of something wet racing down her cheek. "…Are you crying?"

Hikari raised a finger to her eye, catching a tear before it followed the other. By her expression, she seemed just as surprised as he. "It's the wind," she lied poorly, embarrassed, "Because it's so cold up here and everything."

Shizuo felt his weight shift, his lungs filling with a deep breath of chilly air. "If I had a jacket, now would be the time where I'd give it to you." He declared suddenly, "But…"

The smile that met his words was enough cause to not regret them. Hikari turned to face him so quickly that Shizuo didn't even register the movement until she was standing directly in front of him, her hands reaching up to rest on his shoulders.

"I know," she answered, guessing his thoughts, "Shizuo, do you mind…?"

He took a moment to reach that point of realization, but once he had, Shizuo could only reply, "Sure." And he said that only because if he did, it would be harder for her to see the nervousness in his expression.

Hikari's head fell against his chest. Against him, her body seemed so small, yet her warmth completely dominated both his senses and his sensibility.

"You know, I'd be even warmer if you put your arms around me." Hikari murmured, sounding entirely apathetic to the whole affair. Perhaps it was a kind of closeness that she was used to, that was so normal for her it had lost all the meaning it did for Shizuo.

"I don't wanna hurt you accidently." He replied quietly, afraid that moving would disturb this solitude they had built together.

Hikari laughed lightly against him. "Oh, don't worry about it. No one can hurt me without my consent, anyway."

Slowly, with all the care of one handling thin glass, Shizuo began to wrap his arms loosely around her. Hikari seemed comfortable enough with the motion, while he couldn't distract himself from the movement of her waist against his arms, the way her shirt bunched across the small of her back. It wasn't for him to know that her face was as red as his, which was exactly as she wanted it to stay.

Hikari was content with the silence, turning to watch the night deepen into a darker silhouette. If she spoke, she was afraid of the vulnerability she would betray. She could blame it on the sake if she wanted to, but that would only cheapen the moment. She trusted Shizuo enough to give him more than that, just as he had given her a moment of peace with her brother.

Perhaps it was a courage drawn from sharing the same space as Ryuji that saw the return of Hikari's voice. "This city is so strange," she muttered, decided, "It almost makes me feel alive again."

* * *

 **School is draining my creativity and motivation omfg pray I find it soon since I have a few ideas that a really want to put into writing - plus I keep forgetting to update!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter (regardless of it being uploaded later than I meant it to).**


	11. eleven

_weak points / ELEVEN_

"And then?"

Shizuo's eyebrow arched up, a question directed at the man standing opposite him. "And then what?"

Tom's finger drummed against the lid of his cheap, takeaway coffee. The pair stood just under the circle of a streetlamp's light, Shizuo taking up the bench while the other of their pair stood to the side. "After you took her up onto the rooftop, of course." Tom said, urging for more details than just the usual one sentence response.

Shizuo shrugged and refused to oblige. "I went back to my apartment and Hikari went back to hers."

"That's it?"

"Was I meant to do something else?"

Tom sighed, lifting the coffee to his lips to stall long enough to think of a way to bring this up. "It didn't even enter your mind, did it?" he realised, "To ask her out."

Shizuo's fingers jerked, curling into a tight fist. He was surprised at his own reaction, the anger that began to stir as he sat still and refused to acknowledge any of it. Was it Tom's suggestion that irritated him or the fact Shizuo hadn't thought of it earlier? He would never be able to tell, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Shizuo preferred to keep things the way they were; a day at work with Tom, brought to an end by a quick tea and coffee under the cover of night. Besides, it had been days since that moment on the balcony, and it was, he thought, far too late to do anything about it now.

"No." Shizuo admitted. If he had been asked the same question weeks earlier, his answer still would have been the same, just as it would be in the weeks to follow. He never thought to ask women out because he never entertained the idea of it being anything more than a mistake.

"Hypothetically," Tom continued, unable to let the topic die, "If you knew she was to say yes, would you ask her?"

"...I guess."

"So you _like_ Ryuji's sister then?"

"No."

"But you would ask her out if she wanted the same thing."

Shizuo frowned. "Yeah."

Tom was looking at him in a particular, irksome way that had him looking away and glowering in his seat. Shizuo didn't expect him to understand it when he, himself, couldn't even claim that much.

"Look," the blond began, hoping to clarify something off the mess he had made, "She's a little bit weird. Half the time, the rest of the world might not even be there because it doesn't seem to matter to her. And from what I've seen, Hikari seems to have some sort of obsession with her brother's stuff."

"Hm? How's that?"

"If you walked into Ryuji's apartment, you'd see that she hasn't packed away any of his things. She might not have even touched them yet."

It was Tom's turn to offer a frown, walking a few steps before returning to his original stance. "Isn't that just grief?" he wondered.

"It's been over a month," Shizuo pointed out, "How long is normal?"

"I suppose it's reoccurring."

Shizuo looked to his friend for further explanation. The streetlight lit both their faces with harsh light, casting long shadows that made features seem gaunter than they were to an honest gaze. There was a moment of silence as Tom reflected on the best way to answer, and it was only when he did that Shizuo was pulled from the slump of his own thoughts.

"Here's how I think of it," Tom remarked, mild-mannered in a way that almost seemed to undermine his sincerity, "When you lose someone you love, the grief from that isn't something that you get over. You just learn to accommodate it."

"Accommodate, huh?" To Shizuo, it hardly seemed the right word. Hikari seemed content to surround herself with it, but he didn't think it was any healthy manifestation of mourning.

"Haven't you done the same? When Ryuji died, we both lost a good friend, but we have to keep moving on with our lives eventually."

"Eventually," Shizuo agreed, "It hardly seemed to bother you."

Tom agreed with a slight nod, a sombre smile. "If you really wanna get philosophical, that's just because I don't believe death is all that big of a deal. I mean, from the moment we're born, that's how it's always going to end."

"I guess." Shizuo wasn't sure if he had any strong opinions on the matter. There was, at least, nothing intrinsically wrong with Tom's suggestion.

Tom threw his head back as he drank the last few dregs of coffee in his cup, which went down cold. There was a settling silence around them for a few moments, in which the dark haired man found the nearest bin to throw his cup into, ignoring the recycling symbol on the side. Shizuo stretched his arms, stifling a yawn.

"Should we go?" he asked, and was met with silence. "Tom?"

He looked towards his friend for an explanation and found him staring across the street. Shizuo's eyes naturally followed in the same direction, curious. There were a sparse few people filling the streets, but enough of a crowd that he lost the answer in the confusion.

"There," Tom replied at last, nodding towards something, "Isn't that Hikari?"

Shizuo spotted them at last, a figure just exiting the local restaurant. He recognised the movements, the cut of her hair and shape of her silhouette, and knew that it was as Tom had said. What was even more surprising was that Hikari Shibata was not alone that night.

"Who's that with her?" Shizuo asked immediately. The face of the man beside her, a little older and weathered, seemed vaguely familiar.

"You don't remember?" Tom said dubiously, "I believe he was someone you once beat up. An old yakuza."

"Don't expect me to remember everyone I punch in the face." Shizuo muttered, scowling once again. What was Hikari doing with a man like that? They were talking, conversationally, and every once in a while she would flash her usual smile at the other man's stony expression.

Tom was watching Shizuo carefully, seeking the usual signs of a breaking temper. "Did you want to go say hello?"

"No."

After five minutes of talk, Hikari handed the man an envelope – cash? Was it a bribe? – before reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. The old yakuza didn't so much as blink.

" _That_ pisses me off." Shizuo muttered, but the two of them had already turned their backs to each other without another passing word. There was such quick distance put between them, walking their separate ways, that Shizuo had to wonder if the exchange he just witnessed were even real.

As Shizuo's gaze was fixed on Hikari's back, he failed to notice what Tom did. It was left to his friend to point it out, as mildly as ever, that, "There's someone following Hikari."

"Huh?"

"A man," Tom elaborated, squinting to keep tracking the situation, "Suit, brown hair, holding a white phone. He followed them out of the restaurant. He looks like he's tailing your girl, Shizuo."

Shizuo spotted the sight halfway through Tom speaking. A dark haired man wearing a black suit, phone to his ear. It was an innocent enough look, but Shizuo felt as though there was something off in his mannerisms. In a second, without a single conscious decision being made, he had stood up off the bench and begun walking towards them. Where he suspected he should feel anxiety, Shizuo felt nothing but deadly calm.

Tom hurried after him. "What are you doing?" he whispered hurriedly, afraid that there were poorly-made choices to follow Shizuo's rash actions.

While they waited for a gap in traffic to cross the road, Shizuo took the time to glance across and answer simple, "We're following them,"

"…I suppose that's sensible." Tom conceded. It was better than waking up the next day and finding out something had happened to her, he thought.

Once they'd crossed the street, Hikari and her stalker had made it a fair way down. Shizuo and Tom followed as close as they dared and as inconspicuously as they could. There was no doubt in his mind that it wasn't a mistake – the man following Hikari kept lifting his phone up, looking as if he were simply messaging someone. From their vantage point, Shizuo could see that it was actually being used as a camera.

"How many stalkers can one person have?" Tom wondered lowly. It wasn't like Hikari had a huge social profile, even as a model.

Shizuo was confused for a moment, not recalling who it was Tom was talking about. "…Oh. Actually, it turned out that other stalker was actually her manager, Ishikawa."

Tom didn't say anything more beyond his surprised look and their conversation fell into a hush as they focused on moving forward once more, eyes trained on the two figures in front of them. Shizuo found himself staring at Hikari more often than the other guy, almost forgetting how terrible the situation could turn out. It wasn't until he spotted her cutting through the crowd that he amended his own distraction and reiterated his purpose in his head.

No sooner than Hikari had turned off and begun walking down a small alley between the shops, than the man behind her turned to follow.

The sense of urgency seemed much more pressing now. "Let's go." Shizuo ordered, making a beeline for the alley's entrance.

He and Tom reached the corner, peering around and into the dark, brick alley. Tall shadows cast the alley in darkness, hiding mysteries within. Their prying eyes were met with a dull thud and a collection of curses; a man's voice mixed with an exclamation from a woman, who was undoubtedly Hikari.

Shizuo launched himself around the corner, racing into the alley. His footsteps echoed before him, Tom's behind, slowing as their eyes adjusted to the dark and they could make out the figures before them. The scene that greeted Shizuo's arrival was, by far, what he had least expected.

Her stalker lay on the ground, belly-up, his arms pinned above him by the woman straddling his chest. Hikari breathed heavily, shoulders shaking in the hair that hung in a tangled mess about them, but her lips drew their usual, painted smile as her eyes flickered towards him.

"Shizuo," she greeted coolly, hiding her surprise. Her gaze travelled leisurely to the man behind him, "And Tom – it's nice to see you again."

Shizuo glanced between her and her stalker, frowning. "What's going on here?"

"Not a friendly altercation, I suppose?" Tom added. It seemed that being around Shizuo had numbed him to experiences like these.

Hikari shrugged. "I'd explain if I could, but this guy jumped me out of nowhere."

She glanced down towards him, studied the short, brown hair and pockmarked face long enough to commit it to memory. He hadn't said a word when he tried to attack her, and he didn't look like he would say anything soon. In fact, his attention wasn't even directed at her, but up her skirt.

His first words to her were, "Looks like you dressed to impress."

"Pervert." Hikari sighed contemptuously.

In a moment, she had readjusted her position so that her knee bore down on his throat, forcing the man to look up. Shizuo had half the mind to stomp on his sleazy-eyed face right then and there, to grind his eyes into the back of his skull for the comment.

"He followed you out of the restaurant." Shizuo intoned.

Tom agreed with a nod. "A stalker, maybe?"

Hikari turned to observe them, one eyebrow arching high. "Seems like you two would know all about that."

"We just happened to be in the area!" Shizuo replied defensively, crossing his arms.

"Hm, _right_ …I suppose there are more important things to worry about, though." Hikari reasoned, and her attention was redirected, once again, to the man lying underneath her. Her weight kept him pinned, unable to move, and her vantage point provided an excellent angle for interrogation. "Who do you work for?"

There was no reaction; he simply averted his eyes.

"A journalist?" Hikari hypothesised, speaking out aloud, "But there's no camera or notepad – Shizuo?"

He started at the sound of his name and replied out of instinct. "Yeah?"

"Can you pick up the phone he dropped over there?" she nodded towards the gutter, where a something metallic shone dimly.

He did so without a second thought, holding it gingerly in light of trash he plucked it from. Looking towards Hikari, she met him with an apologetic smile. "Break it for me?" she requested sweetly, "If he took pictures on there, I want them gone."

Shizuo stared at her blankly, the phone still hanging in his hand. Tom intervened on the silence, guessing Shizuo's thoughts, and suggested to the blond, "Think about something that makes you angry – like how that pervert down there saw Hikari's underwear before you did."

A snap resounded off dirty brick walls and the phone let out a groan as it twisted in his grip, tighter and tighter until it at last exploded in his palm. Shizuo held the mangled pieces without even thinking about it, too intent upon glaring at Tom. The dark haired man held up his hands immediately, as if in surrender.

Again, Shizuo couldn't decide if it was the words themselves, or the fact that Tom had to say it in front of her.

"Bitch. I needed that." The man groaned, interrupting Shizuo's irritation only to replace Tom with a different target.

Hikari ignored them all, instead leaning forward to reiterate her question. "Who do you work for?"

There was a look in her eyes, something that could only be called deadly and dangerous. It was the complete absence of guilt for her attacker, and the lack of remorse in her expression. It was no mask this time – Hikari had a goal, and she thought of nothing else but that.

"You really think I'm gonna tell you?" the man retorted vehemently, twisting his arms about in her grip.

"So you _do_ work for someone then?"

"Fuck you."

She laughed humourlessly. "You wish you could. Now, one more time – who do you work for?"

The man glared up, answering the question well enough by keeping his lips sealed. Hikari let out a heavy sigh, frowning exasperatedly. There was such lethargy in her expression that her next actions, which were a great contrast, caught them all completely off guard.

Quick as a snake, Hikari drew one hand back from her vice grip and smashed her palm up against the man's nose. There was a sickening crunch, a burst of red, a cry of pain bitten off short, all before Hikari slammed her hand back down over his.

"Shit, that's brutal!" Tom exclaimed, eyes wide but speaking with no will to intervene. It wasn't like he wanted his nose broken as well.

Shizuo's actions betrayed a similar reaction. He was thinking of how one day, he was holding her as she cried, and the next, she was ruthlessly breaking noses – not to say this pervert didn't deserve it. Shizuo kind of regretted not being able to break it himself.

" _Who_ ," Hikari repeated, not having even batted an eyelid, "Do you _work for?"_

The man spat to the side, a small splatter of blood landing on the ground. "If you tell me who you are first." His nose must have hurt like hell, but after the initial shock, he did a commendable job on hiding his pain.

Hikari, on the other hand, was completely honest with her perplexity. "What? Why?" Telling this guy, if he was who she suspected him to be, would only ever end badly.

"You're the one who's been snooping," he argued, "And if you don't wanna provoke us further, then I'd stop digging any deeper."

Hikari watched Shizuo and Tom out of the corner of her eye, tracking their expressions. From the moment they had first appeared around the corner of that alley, they had already discovered more than she wanted either of them to know. She wasn't ready to grant them this understanding of her – she was certain they would, at the very least, hate her for her immorality.

"Wanna let me go since this isn't getting either of us anywhere then?" the man asked.

"Not really. I still want to know who you work for."

"And I still want to know more about you."

Despite their positions, Hikari still sitting on his chest to pin him to the ground, their tone of conversation was very casual. It occurred to Shizuo that the danger of this situation might be nothing compared to others the two of them had experienced. Perhaps this was normal. Frustrating though it was, if it were true then it would lead him to naturally conclude he didn't know Hikari as well as he thought he did.

Their apathy wore on Shizuo's nerves. "What the hell is going on here?" he snapped.

"I wonder…" Tom muttered under his breath, acting the observer.

Hikari looked up, tossing her hair back from her face. "It's not something you need to worry about," she answered, offering an apologetic smile, "And I'm sorry you even got caught up in it in the first place."

Shizuo huffed, irritation mounting once more. He wanted a smoke, or maybe just to punch something.

"What?" Hikari asked, frowning at his reaction.

"You can't tell us what to worry about, or what not to."

"Well, actually-"

"Ah," Tom interjected, alarmed by what they had missed, "I think you had better watch-!"

But it came too late – the lapse in attention was just enough that Hikari's grip loosened, and all tension and threat disappeared from her position. The man below here sensed that, and saw those few seconds as his first opportunity to escape. His will to seize them was so violent that, in a matter of seconds, he had slipped his hands free of Hikari's vice-like grip and shoved her off him.

His elbow rammed into her shoulder, pushing on her weight. The momentum of his own force carried him over, flipping them over and using that moment to push Hikari away roughly. She rolled across the ground, recovered in a moment and pushed herself clumsily up to kneel on the ground.

"Damn it!" Shizuo muttered, already stepping forward to give chase.

Hikari wiped a hand across her forehead, pushing back the tangles of ebony hair that fell across her face, before making to follow. Her breathing came quick, and at the moment she made her first move, caught in her throat as she stifled a cry of pain. She tried to stand a second time, but again her ankle gave way the moment she put the slightest bit of pressure on it.

The man in the suit had already made it a fair way before Shizuo sprung forward, but it wasn't likely that he'd escape if pressed by Shizuo's inhuman strength and endurance. His blood burned at the thought of anyone treating Hikari so violently.

"Ow – fuck!" Hikari hissed, her expression contorting in pain. " _Shizuo_!"

The blond man paused immediately, glancing back. The moment he grasped the hurt so obvious in her eyes, he was still once more. Tom expected Shizuo to go bounding forward anyway, regardless of what anyone else wanted of him. His anger was so obvious, and yet, he still didn't move from the spot.

"Don't bother," Hikari told him, "He wasn't gonna tell me anything anyway."

"…Right." Shizuo agreed stiffly. Perhaps, just this once, a feeling more indomitable than his anger had risen within him.

Hikari pressed her hands to her knees as she fought to rise once more. Tom, standing behind her, caught the slight wavering of strength and caught her arm before she fell back down. "Thanks." She told him, smiling despite her aching ankle.

"No problem."

"Are you hurt?" Shizuo interjected, asking the obvious.

"I think I twisted my ankle." Hikari grimaced, moving to stand without Tom's support. If she kept her weight on her left leg, the throbbing of her right didn't seem as bad.

"I suppose it's to be expected," Tom remarked, "Heels really aren't the appropriate footwear for…whatever just happened here."

Shizuo cut in, taking the chance for interrogation. "And what exactly did just happen? Where'd you learn how to fight like that?"

Hikari crossed her arms defensively, pouting. "It wasn't fighting – that was self-defence. And," she added before she could be asked again, "Ryuji taught me." Never mind that it was actually just a little white lie, containing only vague allusion to the truth.

Her first step forward almost sent her teetering forward. Hikari was quick to recover, but her expression showed how much her ankle actually hurt. It must have been from when that man pushed her onto the ground.

"Why don't you let Shizuo carry you?" Tom suggested.

Shizuo caught his eye, was met with a smug smile. He knew what his friend was trying to do, but the moment Hikari turned to him in question, he was saying, "I don't mind."

"Won't I be heavy?"

He smiled, almost laughed. "I can handle it. Besides, it's just back to our apartment building and it isn't far."

Hikari still hesitated. "…I don't want to be a bother."

Shizuo gave her a dry look before walking closer. "Just do it." He sighed, crouching down in front of her. Even though Tom had only mentioned it in an attempt to pair them together, it wasn't a bad idea.

Hikari's fingers found his shoulder, curling into his clothes as she stepped closer. The moment he felt his hand brush against her legs, Shizuo wound his fingers together to make a seat and stood up once she had settled in. She was as light as he had supposed she would be, and far warmer than anticipated.

Although Shizuo did his best not to pinch or hold on too tightly, he still warned her, "Tell me if I accidently hurt you."

"I wouldn't worry about it." Hikari told him, her voice like velvet against his ear. Despite her original reluctance, she seemed quite comfortable being carried.

Tom led them out of the alley, Shizuo following with Hikari on his back. Perhaps to the outside, it might have looked odd, but none of them could really care less. After what just happened, every other mundane worry only seemed trivial.

"So," Tom asked, feigning a casual attitude, "Who was that guy following you?"

Hikari had a feeling, an inkling of an idea, that was supported by reasons so strong in their validity she hardly doubted it. Since he had followed her out from her meeting with that ex-yakuza – who neither men had mentioned to her yet, relieving her of that problem – the man stalking her was probably a member of the yakuza she was investigating. _Stop digging deeper,_ he had warned her.

It was such a pointless thing to say to her, when there was no way Hikari was ever going to give up. She was prepared to find her brother's killer even if it cost Hikari her very last breath.

However, looking at Tom over Shizuo's shoulder, all Hikari said was, "I don't know."

Shizuo grew a little tenser underneath her, his shoulders stiffening under her hands. Hikari leaned forward, allowing him to take her full weight. Absently, she realised that he smelled a little of earth and coffee.

Shizuo muttered a curse under his breath, before saying, "If it gets dangerous like this again, I want you to tell me."

Hikari closed her eyes against the impact of his words, the painful ache in her chest, but her smile remained immoveable, inflexible to her feelings.

"I promise." Lying was so easy to do, so second-nature, but Hikari couldn't recall a time when she had ever felt so much regret for it, nor wished so badly to be someone else.

* * *

 **Ha, I need to go to bed - I keep reading 'heels' and 'heelys', which admittedly makes this story a lot better, but also a lot less realistic.**

 **Thanks for reading and, as the plot thickens, please feel free to leave a critique (something constructive? maybe?).**


	12. twelve

_weak points / TWELVE_

He caught it out of the corner of his eye; a tall, dark shadow that immediately called upon his curiosity to investigate. At first, Shizuo wasn't sure what it was, what he was meant to do, but the number on the door all but decided it for him. After all, it was only natural of him to worry about Hikari's half-open apartment door.

After that incident a few days ago, she had inhabited his every waking thought. He thought about her as he went to work with Tom, as they sat and drank coffee together and he wondered if she'd like such a bitter drink. He thought about her meeting with that ex-yakuza, and he thought about her brother and the man who had followed her into that alley and if any other strange men had done the same. Her name was constantly on his lips, in his ears, on his mind; all because Shizuo Heiwajima was worried about her.

He didn't even consider how poor-mannered it was to enter her apartment without knocking. It wasn't like he was expecting her to answer, though. Shizuo was thinking that he might find her missing and her apartment cleaned out by thieves, or to see her knocked out on the ground somewhere. There were many worst-case scenarios and he expected them all.

Up the hall, her lounge room light illuminated the area. Shizuo walked as quietly as he could, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his vest as he did so. He covered the space in four long steps, not a change in his expression until he entered the lounge and felt his mouth fall open in surprise.

Contrary to all his dark expectations, Hikari didn't seem to be in any immediate danger at all. In fact, she seemed quite contently passed out on her couch.

Shizuo smiled without realizing it. "Idiot."

Hikari slept with one hand across her face, the other falling down towards the floor. Her hair wound about her fingers in short tangles, her lipstick fading on her lips. When Shizuo saw that she wore only an oversized t-shirt, which had ridden high above her hips and left her underwear on full display, like a lace masterpiece at an art exhibition, his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red.

Her apartment was a mess. A blanket lay on the floor, in the space between the couch and the coffee table, which, in itself, was covered in clutter. Paper littered the top, in piles both organised and disorganised. Around that, Shizuo spotted an open bottle of wine and the same boxes of stuff that lined her apartment walls when he first met her. That day really did seem to so long ago, and his life before meeting her was as alien to him now as she had been then.

Shizuo stepped around the mess and leant down towards the table to get a better look. Bank statements, bills, letters, and photos – it seemed like she had gathered everything about Ryuji she could get her hands on.

He found one photo lying on top, a picture of two middle-schoolers wearing the same school uniform. He recognised Hikari as one of them, though her hair was longer than it was now. In the other, he saw a familiar face softened with youth. Ryuji shared the same face as his sister, but with a sharper jaw, thinner lips, and curlier black hair.

The gloss-finish of a second photo hidden underneath caught his eye. Shizuo plucked in from the chaotic jumble of paper in moments, bending down as he inspected it.

Behind him, moving suddenly, Hikari began turning in her sleep. Her leg slipped off the couch and bumped against his, by accident, but it was still enough of a disturbance to wake her. "….Shizuo?"

She didn't sound too alarmed, so he mirrored her nonchalance. "Hey."

Hikari was bleary-eyed, stifling a yawn when he turned to look at her. "What…?" she mumbled, struggling to articulate her confusion.

"Your door was open," Shizuo explained, "I thought I should make sure you weren't being attacked by some strange man again."

She blinked up at him owlishly. "… _You're_ the strange man, entering people's homes without their permission and all that."

"I'm your neighbour."

"Not an excuse," she chided, voice still muffled in her lethargy, "Just say that we're friends – it gives you a little more leeway to act like a creep."

"I wasn't-!"

"I know, I know!" Hikari cut him off with a gentle smile, curbing all retaliation. She reached out and touched his forearm softly. "And it's really sweet of you to worry about me like that, so thank you, Shizuo."

His heart almost stopped at the sudden contact, while Hikari's only beat quicker. She didn't mean to always touch him so carelessly, but it happened without her even realising it. Hikari reorientated herself and sat up on the couch, her feet landing in the blanket that had slipped off her at some point during her nap. Her eyes landed on the photo in his hand, one that dated back about four years.

"Going through my stuff as well now, are we?" she remarked.

Shizuo glanced down at the photo. He recognised Hikari in the picture once more, a little older this time. Considering the school uniform, he guessed she was probably in her third year of high school. She stood next a much taller man, dark haired and scowling, with his arm wrapped around her waist. It was not Ryuji standing beside her, but a stranger that evoked a queasy feeling in Shizuo – jealousy, perhaps?

"Who is it?" he asked, unable to deny his curiosity.

Hikari reached forward to snatch the photo from him, but Shizuo simply stepped out of reach. She gave him an exasperated look. " _Shizuo."_ She warned, standing up. The hem of her t-shirt fell back down to her thighs, and he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Who?" Shizuo reiterated.

Hikari made another grab for the photo, only to find him lifting his hand and holding it high out of reach. She glared at him, growing a little cross. It wasn't enough to scare him.

"Shizuo, come on!" Hikari pulled at his shoulder, unsurprised to find he didn't budge.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Shizuo!"

"That's not an answer."

Hikari pouted and he only smiled in reply. He had never known how much fun it would be to tease her like this, or just how cute she would look making the face she did now. However, as he watched, Hikari's expression changed into something equally playfully. She met his gaze, smiling innocently, and said, "Fine."

Shizuo wasn't in the least bit prepared for the full force of her body crashing into his when she jumped up in the air. He didn't want to push back and risk hurting her, and it was the same reason he also didn't grab her arms and steady them both. Even if he had wanted to, it would have been too late anyway – they had already landed on the floor with a dull, resonating thud.

" _Ow_ …" Hikari's head collided with Shizuo's chest as they landed, he on his back. "What are you made of? Stone?" she grumbled, rubbing her temple.

"Sorry." Shizuo mumbled.

"It's not your fault." She pointed out matter-of-factly. Hikari pushed herself upright only to find that she was straddling Shizuo's hips. She might have been embarrassed if Shizuo had not looked so calm about the situation, and if the photo she has snatched from his grip wasn't so distracting.

Shizuo pushed himself up onto his elbows, regarding her coolly. Hikari was staring at the photo in her hands with an odd look, a kind of melancholy that was neither good nor bad.

Even though he was probably being too nosy, Shizuo asked one more time, "So who is it?"

Hikari's eyes flickered to him and then away. "…My old boyfriend." She admitted at last.

Shizuo sat upright immediately, closing the distance between him and Hikari. With her still sitting on his hips, they were close enough to hear each other breathe, to study her smudged makeup with all the intensity one would a work of art. He could feel his hands balling into fists as his side, confirming once and for all that _yes,_ he was most definitely jealous of this stranger.

"He was a few years older and we met while I was finishing high school," Hikari explained softly, "Which, now that I think about it, might have been a little bit weird. Now that I'm about his age, to think of dating a high schooler feels like it would be like dating a kid. But he and Ryu got along well, so I thought that meant he, that our relationship, wasn't really that bad."

Shizuo studied the photo upside down, the man with the brown hair and a harsh face. Everything about him seemed cold, except for the way he held Hikari close to him. Shizuo couldn't help but wonder if this man was a gang leader or yankee.

"Sorry," Shizuo muttered again, "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

Hikari shook her head and smiled. "It's fine. You wanted to know more, Shizuo, and I don't mind telling you if you're the one that asks."

He stared at her, taken aback, and Hikari laughed at his reaction. "His sister, Kimiko, took the photo," she continued, turning back to the picture before her cheeks grew any redder, "She was only a year older than me, so we got along alright."

"What was his name?"

"Tatsuo," Hikari answered, "If you called him Tatsu, he got really mad, so I used to do it a lot."

"Of course you did."

"And what if I called you Shizu?"

His irritation was immediate and obvious. " _Don't_ ," he ordered firmly, "That damn flea Orihara calls me that."

She laughed at his reaction, one hand moving to hide her face. "Sorry." she giggled, before reaching out thoughtlessly once more. Her fingers had already collided with his cheeks, tracing the shadow of his jaw and moving to brush back his bleached hair, before she realised what it was she was doing.

Shizuo didn't dare move. Her gaze, direct and unflinching, had him frozen in both space and time. His skin burned where she touched him, awaking an ache within his chest, and Shizuo had to close his eyes before he did something that he knew he might regret. Hikari was far too close, far too warm, and he was vulnerable to every aspect of her. Shizuo thought about how little she wore, about her thighs pressing against his hips, and about the curve of her lips and how much he wanted to kiss her.

"You know," Hikari announced, "You really are a lot cuter without those sunglasses."

She had moved close enough that he could feel her breath warming his skin. Shizuo knew, had she wanted to, that he would have let her do anything to him in that moment; but all that came of the situation was a sudden realization of embarrassment.

Hikari's reaction was captured in a blink, wherein she quickly crawled off his lap and onto the ground beside him. For a moment, her gaze was averted, and all she had to offer was an apologetic smile. She knew she'd become too wound up by her own thoughts once again, and she desperately needed to reorganise her priorities. Shizuo Heiwajima was proving himself an irresistible distraction from the goal Hikari had set for herself when she moved to Ikebukuro.

Shizuo had the feeling that there was more to the story than she had told him. Studying her now, he thought he caught traces of guilt in her expression. Beneath the mask, there was a history that she wasn't willing to let him understand. He had some of the pieces, but Hikari still hid the rest of the puzzle from him.

"One day," Shizuo began quietly, "I'd like to hear the rest of the story." About Ryuji, about Tatsuo, about _her_ ; there was still so much he didn't understand.

It didn't help that Hikari kept seeming to change about much she was willing to share with him. One minute, she would be close enough to touch, and the next she would move just beyond his fingertips.

"Shizuo," she muttered softly, looking down, "I know there are some things about me you won't understand. Please forgive me for not being able to speak about them."

" _Yet._ "

Hikari's eyes opened wide, her lips parting as if trying to draw in enough breath to object. Shizuo stood up slowly, before offering a hand to Hikari. She hesitated to take it.

Just this once, Shizuo prayed that he wouldn't push so hard he hurt her. "I, uh…" He couldn't say it to her face, so he looked at the wall adjacent, "…I want to take you out to lunch."

"Shizuo…"

He let his irritation careen off into courage. "Even if you don't trust me now, I'll keep trying until you do." He declared resolutely.

His skin tingled as her fingers slid across his, using his uncompromising strength to pull herself up to her feet. Hikari's hand remained in his as she smiled up at him, fighting to breathe through the tightness in her chest. She knew the feeling that had taken root within her – it promised consequences for her mistakes, but Shizuo's words made her happy enough to not even care.

"I finish work at two tomorrow," Hikari declared, meeting his eyes at last, "You can pick me up after that."

* * *

 **Exams coming up for the next few weeks - I'll _try_ to post regularly but please don't take that as a promise.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	13. thirteen

_weak points / THIRTEEN_

Shizuo knew, waiting outside the florist, his hand tapping agitatedly against his leg, that he was going to spend entirety of the date wondering why she'd agreed to it. He could think of a hundred reasons not to, while no single idea presented itself that seemed to justify why she would want to spend her day with him. The first two times were the product of chance and her own exterior motivations. This time, Shizuo could only consider himself lucky.

His nose wrinkled at the thick smell of pollen in the air, and he lifted the cigarette to his lips to take the edge off. It helped to calm his nerves – not that he was nervous in the first place. That was a ridiculous thought. Hikari Shibata, despite how charismatic and beautiful she was, could in no way make him feel such a thing.

"Fuck it." Shizuo muttered, taking another drag from his smoke.

A bell chimed as the florist door swung open. He glanced to the side, caught a glimpse of the woman on his mind, and turned back away. Shizuo decided the best course of action would be act as if he had no interest in her at all.

"You're early." Hikari pointed out ambivalently.

"Sorry." He grunted.

She was smiling; he could practically feel it. "I don't mind, you know. I'll just ask Old Lady Oriku to let me go early."

"…You don't have to-" By the time Shizuo had finally found the courage to turn and look in her direction, Hikari was already stepping back inside the shop.

Shizuo resigned himself to the wait. He took one final hit from his cigarette before letting it fall the footpath, crushing it under his shoe. Hikari re-emerged moments later, looking satisfied.

"Oriku said it was fine," she announced, stepping towards him, "So I'm free to go now."

"Oh, okay," Shizuo replied stiffly, "I was going to say that I didn't mind waiting."

Hikari walked a few steps ahead, her shoulders set confidently, glancing back with a coy smile. "Don't worry about it. I'd much rather spend the day with you anyway."

She turned back around and continued on walking as though she hadn't said anything remarkable at all. Shizuo was close to blushing, on the verge of spluttering, but he mastered himself quickly and responded with a simple shrug and a decision not to get hung up on anything she said. He caught up to her in a few, long steps.

"So," she asked, breaking the silence, "Where are we going?"

"Wherever you want." Shizuo answered.

Hikari turned to regard him with scepticism. "You asked me out for lunch, but you don't know what you want to do?"

He thought about saying, _because I'm okay with doing anything if it's with you_ , but held back on the basis that it sounded stupid. Shizuo had actually put hours of thought into today. He had spent a large part of last night thinking of where to eat, what to do and to say, but ultimately he hadn't been able to decide on something suitable. _Russia Sushi_ had become his backup plan.

"What do you want to do?" Shizuo asked instead.

Hikari considered it, head tilted, a finger pressed her lips. "Well, I know Ikebukuro too well now for a tour to be of any use now. Would you be okay with stopping in for something quick at a convenience store?" she suggested, "We can stop and eat at a park or somewhere like that afterwards."

"Sounds fine to me."

"Good, then it's decided."

The walked in silence for a while, letting the noise of the city fill the absence of conversation between them. Shizuo was a few steps behind, deliberately pacing himself so he wouldn't overtake her. Hikari, despite her long legs and average height, always seemed to be dwarfed by Shizuo. Not that he minded; the height difference had seemed to him, lately, to be kind of endearing.

Eventually, the silence began to stretch so thin that Shizuo had to relieve himself of it, blurting out lamely, "How was work?"

Hikari walked with her shoulder turned slightly towards him. "Fine," she answered, not minding his awkwardness, "What about you? Did you work today?"

"Yeah," Shizuo replied, "Some punk spilled is drink on me though."

Hikari laughed. "Well, I can guess how that ended for them," she said, before slowing down just enough to point to the large, off-colour stain on his white shirt collar, "You know, it should wash out if you soak it in vinegar for a bit and then chuck it in the wash."

He stared at her perplexedly, receiving a sigh in turn.

"Honestly," Hikari muttered, "What'd you do with those clothes you got all bloody that time you barged in on my apartment?"

" _Accidently_ ," Shizuo objected, "And I threw them out. I have spare sets anyway, so it's not like it matters."

The conversation stalled as they dodged around a couple walking the opposite way. Hikari's eyes lingered on them, before turning to Shizuo with a frown. It occurred to her that this, a date, wasn't exactly the type of thing he would usually agree to; and perhaps she had simply mistaken his intention when she agreed. Shizuo, on that other hand, was only thinking about how annoying it was that people had to take up the whole footpath when they walked, and how he was glad that he and Hikari didn't do the same.

"Spares?" Hikari asked, "Shizuo, why would you need more than one?"

"It was for my old job as a bartender. My brother bought them for me in hopes I'd settle down in a job."

She could infer from that, that Shizuo's employment record was nearly as good as his temper. "Oh," Hikari decided it would be better to talk about something else, "Your brother?"

"Kasuka."

She nodded understandingly. "So that's Yuhei Hanajima's real name…"

Shizuo almost stopped walking in the middle of the crowd. "What did you just say?"

Hikari wondered if his tone was one of surprise or aggravation, hoping it would be the first. "I, ah, looked into it." She told him, playing it cool. Hikari had the feeling, had she known Shizuo as well as she did now, she might never have asked Izaya the question. The thought of going behind his back, the way Shizuo intentionally did not do to her, made her a little queasy.

When she glanced over her shoulder, she found Shizuo glowering.

"Sorry," Hikari said, though it was hard to be entirely apologetic about it, "I was curious. I won't talk about it if it bothers you."

Shizuo stared at her, brow furrowing, until at last he said, "No, it's fine. I don't mind if you know."

Hikari breathed out, smiling with relief. So long as he didn't find out it was Izaya Orihara who told her, then everything would be fine.

She could not have spotted the convenience store at a more opportune time. The conversation was just beginning to teeter off and die when Hikari glanced back to guide them over to the front door. A bell strung over the door chimed as they entered.

Shizuo stepped inside and almost walked right into Hikari, who had stopped in the middle of the aisle. She didn't seem to notice, scouting out the store as she said, "Did you want anything? I'll buy." In a way, it was like a test to see if Shizuo would say anything about it, assuming he believed in the outdated idea that the man should pay for the date.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. I ate earlier." Shizuo replied. Hikari stared at him blandly, disappointed in the answer and as confused as ever as to if this were a date or not. Even though it was nearing two, a little late to be eating, she couldn't help but wonder why he'd asked her out to lunch if he didn't intend to join her – maybe it wasn't a date after all?

She grabbed a plastic-packaged sandwich as her meal, and a bottle of chocolate milk from the fridge. Turning, out of the corner of her eye, Hikari spotted Shizuo's sceptical look.

"What?" she demanded, turning to him.

"…Nothing."

Hikari eyed him warily, sensing that it was a little more than what he said. "…It's not a kid's drink." She muttered, sounding sulky. She even reminded Shizuo of a little kid when she turned her back to him, stubbornly ignoring him as she marched up the counter to pay. He lingered a few steps behind, trailing after her leisurely.

The man behind the counter, a twenty-something year old with slicked back hair and lingering acne, glanced from whatever he'd been looking at on his lap.

"Hey. Is this everything…?"

Shizuo frowned, looking across as the man trailed off halfway through his greeting, and found him simply staring dumbly at Hikari. The blond started edging closer to her without realising it.

"What?" Hikari asked bitingly.

The employee lifted up the magazine he'd been reading, displaying the cover to them both. "Ah…" he mumbled, eyes widening.

Shizuo studied the magazine, the lingerie-clad model posing on front. He recognised the magazine as one filled with pictures of gravure idols, which, for as much as it was confusing, was also a little irritating.

"You kinda look like…" the man muttered, lowering the magazine onto the counter and sliding it across to Hikari, "Is this you?"

Hikari had only to glance it briefly before she looked up and answered coolly, "Oh, yeah, it is."

" _What_?" Shizuo muttered, almost growling in his surprise.

He came to look over her shoulder, while Hikari turned back just enough to nod in confirmation. Shizuo saw the truth for his own eyes, recognising the model on the page to be exactly who they said it was. Her makeup wasn't as heavy, suggesting this was a few years ago, but he could easily recognise Hikari by the shape of her lips and colour of her eyes.

"Well, I had to start somewhere. This's how Ishikawa managed to scout me and get me into the work I do now." Hikari explained to him.

Shizuo watched her expression carefully, before saying simply, "Huh. Maybe I should get a copy." Hikari's lack of embarrassment helped curb his own, to the point where he could even make a joke about it.

" _Shizuo_." Hikari warned off with a deadpan stare and a nudge of her elbow while he still stood close enough to touch.

"Eh?" the clerk muttered, startled out of his lethargic expression once more, "You're…Shizuo Heiwajima?"

"Yeah," Shizuo confirmed, confused, "Why does it matter?"

The man behind the counter stood in a flurry, throwing the magazine over his shoulder and crying, "I'm really sorry! I shouldn't have been l-looking at your girlfriend like t-that!"

Hikari leaned back, crossing her arms as she stared at him. The man's absolute terror of Shizuo's anger was, to her, a source of one part amusement and one part cynicism. She glanced back at Shizuo, who met her gaze and shrugged at the silent question hanging between them.

"Just pay for the food." He told them, almost exasperatedly.

He didn't bother to correct the clerk on calling her his girlfriend, which had Hikari wondering if she'd been mistaken in her mistake – maybe this _was_ a date after all?

"Ah, er, right!" the man stammered, quickly ringing up Hikari's purchases.

She handed him the few yen it cost, though her eyes still lay on Shizuo. He had turned half away from her, his eyes seeming to wander to the furthest corner of the room from where they stood. If it were in embarrassment, Hikari could only think of it as cute.

"Your change." The clerk muttered, calling attention back to him.

Hikari accepted it quickly, slipping it into her bag, before grabbing her drink and sandwich. On her way out, she spared the man a barely considered, "Thanks." He nodded shortly, one hand pressed to his forehead, and that was the last Hikari saw of him before she followed Shizuo back outside onto the street.

The first thing he said to her, watching from the corner of his eye, was, "A gravure idol. Really?"

"A bartender, Shizuo. Really?" she mocked. It occurred to her, vaguely, that she couldn't remember the moment when she had decided to trust Shizuo enough to start acting like her real self around him.

Shizuo only smiled at her jibe, accepting that that would be extent of their discussion on it. It was fair enough, as he reasoned that Hikari was probably pretty good at that type of modelling. She had the look and could play the part; nothing else was necessary to achieve success.

They made it to the park in a matter of minutes, weaving their way through the crowds with little conversation. There wasn't really a need to talk when the silence spoke just as well for them. The greenery expanded further than expected for a garden in the city, with a few tall trees providing spots of shade over the few available benches. It was there, under the canopy of leaves, that the two of them stopped and took a seat.

Hikari sat with her bag on one side, leaving just enough room between her and Shizuo to sit her drink. Opening the sandwich's packaging, she held one half out to Shizuo.

"Eat." Hikari ordered.

"I just did." He grumbled.

"Probably like an hour ago," she reasoned, "Besides, I won't finish it all anyway."

He studied her carefully, considering his options, but found her hard stare impossible to withstand. He took his half of the sandwich, and Hikari smiled happily as she took hers.

"So," Hikari began, pausing between bites, "You don't seem that bothered by greasy little perverts seeing me half naked."

"You don't either." Shizuo argued, wolfing down his sandwich.

She pursed her lips, falling deeper into thought. Hikari was coming to realise that trying to ascertain Shizuo's jealousy was going to be nearly impossible. It was strange to think that, in the case of that incident in the alley, Shizuo had looked so ready to beat that guy for looking up her skirt – Hikari had been too, admittedly – yet now, none of that seemed applicable.

As if his thoughts followed hers, Shizuo spoke up again. "You consented to the picture, right? If it's a choice you made knowing the consequences, then it's not really any of my business to disagree."

"I suppose." Hikari took a moment to eat, before turning in her seat. Their knees pressed up against each other, far closer than anticipated, but neither moved away. "Hypothetically, though; if, say, I _was_ your girlfriend and it was your business," she added, smiling elusively, "And if you _did_ disagree…?"

"It still wouldn't matter. All they get is that act you put on, and I'd know other sides to you that they never could." Shizuo decided simply. Though he spoke thoughtlessly, roughly, he came from a place of honesty that Hikari desperately wanted to find in herself. She wondered if he knew that he already saw sides to her that no one else did.

There was no one else but Shizuo Heiwajima who could ever get close enough to reach her in the way that he did.

As if bothered by the seriousness of the conversation, the blond shifted in his seat and rolled his shoulders as if too shake off the stiffness. "Where do you wanna go after this?"

Hikari had already considered it, weighing all the options she knew of, and concluded simply, "The aquarium, maybe?"

He caught the excitement glimmering in her green eyes, the wish behind her words, and he decided that there was no better date in the world than one that gave him the chance to make her happy. So he said, "…Sure."

Shizuo was answered with a smile so beautiful that he finally understood the emptiness of all the ones before.

* * *

 **So _is_ it a date, or isn't it? (Spoiler: Hikari finds out in the next chapter).**

 **God, I am so terrible at updating. I even thought about waiting another week to post this chapter, except I realised i was going to be out of town; no internet, no social contact, and lots of driving. And then more exams the next few weeks after.**

 **Form a lynch mob while you're waiting for the next update, maybe? (Or do your hw instead of reading this garbage lol).**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading/following/favouriting!**


	14. fourteen

_weak points / FOURTEEN_

They walked side by side up the stairs, and as far as couples went, they were by far the most mismatched of them all. It was in the tall and the short, the dark and the light, the very expression of themselves. They were contradictions, even unto themselves, but Hikari didn't mind – she would never have found that day as enjoyable as it was if it weren't spent in the company of anyone other than Shizuo Heiwajima.

The silence had grown tolerable between them, to the point where neither felt it was really necessary to say anything. Shizuo didn't like talking that much, and Hikari didn't like lying to him that much. In a way, she supposed that it worked out for the better; except the part where she still didn't know if it were a date or not.

They had spent time together like it was one, but hadn't done anything more than what went beyond the definition of friends. Hikari wasn't sure how to ask, but as they drew closer and closer to their apartments, the need to say something became more and more pressing. Still, she really didn't like the idea of asking something that could be potentially embarrassing.

"So, uh…" Shizuo's voice broke the silence, his thoughts seeming to follow hers.

Hikari glanced across, readjusting the bag on her shoulder. "Yeah?"

He was looking at their apartment doors, which they had reached sooner than he thought. Shizuo was weighing his options, considering each one carefully, but ultimately decided only that he liked Hikari far too much for it to be rational. "Wanna come inside for a drink?" he asked, not having the courage to look her in the eyes.

Hikari stared at Shizuo, at the shoulder he turned towards her and the stiffness in his neck, before smiling happily. "Sure. I'd love to."

He nodded, still not facing her, but lead the way forward. It was the same corridor that she had known for months now, cracks zigzagging through peeling paint and the few odd stains on the carpet, but as Hikari walked past her door and followed Shizuo up to his, it was as if it were an entirely different world. She was curious to see where Shizuo lived, and she wanted to hope that she might understand him better for it.

Which, all things considered, was a little odd; she'd never liked someone so much that she had a genuine interest in understanding them before.

"Hikari." Shizuo called out, pulling her from her revere.

She glanced up, saw that he was nodding her head towards the open door, and entered his apartment first. He walked in behind her, taking a moment to accidently slam the door shut before, presumably, locking it. Hikari wandered ahead on her own, finding the initial layout to be almost identical to her own; lounge room on the left, kitchen on the right.

"Coffee or tea?" Shizuo asked, coming up behind her.

She glanced back to meet him with a smile, seeing that he had taken his sunglasses off in the meantime. "Whatever you're having, Shizuo. I'm not fussy."

"Coffee, then?"

"Coffee's fine – did you want any help?"

Shizuo shook his head. "No. You just sit and make yourself at home."

"If you're sure." She conceded, a little sceptical. She couldn't imagine someone as strong as Shizuo exhibiting enough self-control to make anything. But then, at the same time, she couldn't imagine a life for Shizuo that wasn't independent of everyone else; a lonely life, she imagined.

While he was quick to busy himself with the drinks, Hikari settled for exploring the lounge room. She had no trouble making herself at home, when the sparse design reminded her so much of the apartment she'd lived in before Ikebukuro. Now, she had filled all her spare space with Ryuji's life. A glance around told her that Shizuo probably didn't have anyone like that. She couldn't even find a single family photo, though he did seem to care for the brother he had mentioned earlier.

"Sugar?" Shizuo asked from a distance.

"One, thanks." She called back.

Hikari left her bag on Shizuo's sofa, a quaint two-seater, before sitting and slipping her boots off. Her feet ached after so much walking, even though she'd worn her smallest heels to work. Just as she'd been stretching herself out, the seams of her shirt straining as she lifted her arms, Shizuo reappeared with a cup in each hand.

She accepted hers with a thankful smile, and Shizuo settled down into the space next her. He stretched his legs out before him, toes almost touching the table. It looked like he'd ditched his shoes in the kitchen.

After her first, tentative sip, Hikari murmured out aloud, "Not bad."

Shizuo overheard, immediately bristling at the comment. "I know how to make coffee." He scowled.

"That wasn't what I meant." She argued, though that was, in fact, exactly what she meant.

"Yeah, sure," he scoffed, feeling like he knew her better than that. Shizuo cast about for a way to broach conversation, "So…"

He caught her eye by chance, the expectant look she wore, and it was as if he forgot how to think. "…Was today okay?" he blurted.

Hikari smiled pleasantly. "Today was good."

"Okay. Good." For some reason, Shizuo couldn't seem to stop himself from talking. "I wasn't sure, since I don't usually go on dates. I don't usually get asked, and I don't usually like asking, so…?"

Hikari was looking at him oddly; staring up with wide, emerald eyes that were deep enough to match the dark red colour blooming on her cheeks. Shizuo wasn't sure what he'd said to make her blush, but just seeing her react that way made his own face burn up.

Hikari didn't say anything about it, however. What she did do was reach across and take the cup right out of Shizuo's hand, before leaning forward and leaving hers and Shizuo's on the coffee table. They weren't even halfway empty.

"Shizuo," Hikari began quietly, and he swung back to face her, "You did fine. I had a really nice time with you."

Her fingers were cool against his cheeks when her hand came to rest there. Shizuo didn't move, half from the shock of it, half for fear of hurting her, and Hikari let her fingertips brush over his skin, curling into the ends of his hair.

A date, she thought. It had been a date all along.

Aside from her embarrassment, an intense wave of relief swept through her. That Shizuo had asked her out on a _date_ just made it so much easier to rationalize kissing him.

Their lips grazed each other at first. Shizuo was guided into the kiss by the hand on his face, and even for as inexperienced as he was, he knew it was coming. Something instinctive had kicked in, and he was sure it had to do with how bright her eyes were and how promising her lips looked. She was warm, that was the first thing he noticed, but tasted of the bitterness of coffee. It wasn't like he minded. Shizuo imagined he probably tasted like stale cigarettes.

Hikari, just as she controlled the kiss in its beginning, also dictated its end. When she spoke afterwards, their faces were still close enough that he could feel her breath washing across his skin. "Thank you, Shizuo," she said softly, her cheeks brilliantly red now, "…Can I kiss you again?"

"Sure." He answered so quickly that it was obvious he hadn't even considered saying no.

If it were an option, Shizuo knew he would be perfectly fine spending an eternity kissing Hikari Shibata. There were a million different ways he wanted to try it; short and sweet, long and slow. Deeply, passionately, lightly and lovingly. She gave him just a few samples in the next few moments, lifting her face up to meet his.

Hikari had to kneel on the couch, moving ever so slowly so that she was sitting up taller than he, pressing her kisses down onto him. Shizuo returned them with the same vigour, the same compliance, and was content to let them fall into any sort of position. And as her knees began to ache, Hikari swung one leg over his and settled for straddling him, letting her tight-fitting skirt ride up her thighs.

"Shizuo," she murmured, breaking away as their breathing grew even harsher, "You _can_ touch me, you know."

He was watching her carefully, for any sign of hesitation or reservation, but she gave him nothing but an encouraging smile. Shizuo knew he was being overly cautious, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to be the mistake that ruined this moment.

After a moment, Hikari laughed and leaned down to peck his lips. "I promise I won't break." She told him teasingly.

It was enough to assuage his remaining reservations. Tentatively, his fingers braced themselves against her hips, creeping along until his palms were pressed against the small of her back, encouraging her to kiss him again. Hikari complied willingly, gradually growing more insistent as Shizuo matched her force. Eventually, his budding confidence continuing to bloom, Shizuo found himself abandoning thought for desire.

He was quick to pull her shirt out from her skirt, his hands slipping underneath to trace lines across the bare skin of her back. Wherever it was that their bodies met, their skin burned. Hikari couldn't tell how fast her heart was beating, or if it was even beating at all. It all seemed to inconsequential; and when Shizuo moved to press butterfly kisses along her jaw, she found herself struggling to keep even breaths.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse as Shizuo kept moving lower, growing bolder as he began kissing hard enough to bruise her neck.

" _Shizuo_ …" she whispered, and had to start again because her voice was so weak, "Shizuo, can we move this to the bedroom?"

His hand fell from her cheek, drawing a line down her neck and towards the curve of her breasts. "…Are you sure?" he asked, so close that his breath elicited a shiver from her.

Hikari nodded, the look in her eyes utterly serious. "If you are." She replied.

He answered her with a kiss, the first he had taken the initiative to begin. As his hands slipped under her thighs, Hikari wrapped her fingers around his neck and braced herself for the moment he stood up. Shizuo seemed to have no problem carrying her as he began to walk, holding her as if she were nothing, just a feather in his arms.

He let her down just as they reached his bedroom, leaning forward and kissing her while he opened the door behind her. Hikari mirrored Shizuo's steps, walking backwards into the room with her arms still around his neck. Their gazes clashed, at first fiery and full of tension, until she dissolved into laughter.

"What?" he growled, expecting to hear that he'd done something wrong.

"Nothing," she told him, grinning and leaning in close, "I was just thinking that I really like you."

"Oh."

She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his lips, and Shizuo couldn't help but like the thought of that. "Same," he muttered, uncharacteristically flustered, "I…really like you too."

"Good. Now take your shirt off." She ordered.

Hikari had already stripped herself of her own button-up, and was working on shimmying out of her skirt. Shizuo followed suit, unfastening the first few buttons of his vest and shirt, before stepping a little away to pull them off over his head. He turned back just as she slipped off her black lace bra, leaving her in nothing more than the matching underwear.

She stepped forward, pressing herself against him, hands on his shoulder. Shizuo kept his eyes averted as her fingers moved slowly across his chest. "…Are you embarrassed, Shizuo?" she murmured, kissing him in the hollow of his collar bone.

"No," he said, thinking of all the places she touched him, of how his body burned the lower her hands trailed, "But, ah…I don't have any protection."

Her arms circled about his waist, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. "I don't either," she admitted, "But I'm on birth control, so I don't really mind if we keep going. You've just gotta pull out in time – that's what you're worried about, right?"

Hikari wasn't too bothered by the risks, especially when she ached so badly to keep going. Admittedly, she wasn't the biggest advocate for safe sex, just like Shizuo was no advocate for sex at all. At this point, if Hikari was willing, he would done almost anything.

"Yeah," he decided eventually, leaning down, "Do you mind kissing me again?"

She was smiling as she complied, meeting him with a collection of quick, scattered kisses that he deepened after wrapping his arms around her. As her fingers began to tug on his pants, Shizuo matched her intensity and let his hands wander down her back, over the lace underwear, onto the soft skin of her inner thighs and areas even more sensitive. Her hips pushed against his, Hikari biting her lip to hold back a small moan.

Slowly, they stepped back until they reached his bed. Shizuo was extremely cautious in the way he held her, even as Hikari pulled him forward and he gingerly let her down onto the bed.

With his hands either side, keeping them some distance apart, Shizuo found the moment of breath needed to ask, "Are you sure?"

"Of course," she insisted softly, "But if you think this is a mistake, please tell me now."

Shizuo could almost have laughed if his concerns hadn't seemed so serious. Even just thinking about how to articulate them made him frustrated. It was all he could do to lean down and kiss her forehead, confessing huskily, "I want you. But I _don't_ want to hurt you."

Her hands curled into his hair, eyes wandering over his features. "We can take it as slow as you want." She promised, her fingers trailing across his cheek, over his lips. "Is that okay?"

He never expected her to tell him that, to want him so badly that she would be willing to take a chance with him. It was a possibility he often met with incredulity, and yet she was more than a dream. He knew it when he kissed her, from the heat of her breath, the softness of her breasts as his fingers wandered downwards, and from the warmth of her legs wrapping around him.

Shizuo had made his decision irrevocably clear, and there was no turning back as they crossed all lines and boundaries.

He was lost in her, in himself, in the physical and emotional depths that were opening up around him. Despite being so acutely sensitive to every feeling, Shizuo couldn't tell at what point they'd abandoned the rest of their clothes or the moment in which Hikari gave up all pretences of restraint and handed herself over entirely to him. When they grew tired of the gentle foreplay, Hikari helped coax him to enter her, biting her lip to keep from crying out when he did.

He waited until she nodded before beginning to move. Shizuo kept his arms mostly on either side of Hikari, curling his fingers into the sheets and only ever reaching out to gently readjust her legs. There was enough difference in their heights that he could rest his elbows either side of her face, lean in and catch her lips in a fierce kiss. As he sped up the pace of each thrust, growing just a little rougher, Hikari found a strange, breathy moan escape her.

"Shizuo…"

Her fingers dug into his back, lacing his skin with red lines.

"Again, Hikari," He ordered shortly, lost for breath as he failed to hold in his own groans.

She could feel the climax coming, her back arching off the bed. " _Shizuo."_ She moaned once more.

He pulled out at the last moment, finishing on her leg accidently. Hikari fell back into the bed, the sheets bunching around her, while she waited until her heart calm. Her breasts heaved with each deep breath and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of her naked beneath him.

Shizuo knelt between her legs still, his fingers tracing the contours of her hips. "Sorry." he muttered.

Hikari smiled wryly, throwing a hand across her face. "It's fine," she dismissed his awkward embarrassment lightly, "I've had worse things happen during sex."

He stared, not at all at ease with it. "There are tissues beside you." He announced instead, skirting the topic.

Hikari rolled her head, finding a box sitting on Shizuo's bedside table. She grabbed a handful and passed them to Shizuo for him to clean up with. When he'd finished, he turned and tossed them into a wicker basket Hikari guessed must have acted as a bin.

Shizuo collapsed down onto the middle of the bed, leaving enough space between them that she felt he was just beyond her fingertips. As if to challenge that thought, Hikari rolled onto her side and brought them both back to the closeness that had existed between them just moments earlier. Though the passion had since faded, the intimacy did not.

His arm wound itself around her waist, keeping her pushed up against him and providing a shoulder for her to rest her head against. Her leg overlapped his, arms falling across his chest, before the two of them finally settled into a content silence.

Hikari had to wonder at the consequences of weeks of building tension, but even then couldn't bring herself to regret this. She meant what she had told him – that she liked him – just as surely as she had meant to kiss him.

"Hey, Hikari?"

She closed her eyes, burying herself into the crook of his neck. "Yeah?" she murmured. It was so warm, so comfortable beside him, she almost felt like sleeping.

"Do we need to talk about what just happened?" Shizuo asked.

"I don't know," she replied, honest at first before adding teasingly, "You weren't bad, so I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"…That wasn't-"

"I know, I know," she giggled, neck straining as she kissed the edge of his jaw, "Was there something you want to say, though?"

His fingers swept over the rise of her hip, following the dip of her waist. Whether he meant it to be or not, the sensation was extremely soothing. "No." He said, and, in honest counsel with himself, what more could he want? Beside him was a woman who wanted to spend time with him, who wanted to kiss him, who had exceeded his every expectation in all possible ways. It was enough for Shizuo to find just one more person who accepted him for who he was rather than reject him out of fear.

"Shizuo…" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed herself in close and breathed in his musky scent.

"What?"

She knew what she wanted to say – the truth was on the tip of her tongue. But all that came out was a soft, "Nothing."

Even knowing he deserved better, she still couldn't tell him. Was it wrong to not want him to hate her that much? It was selfish, absolutely, but that was a quality in her which she had defined her life by. She had reconciled with that flaw long ago.

He was about to argue, mouth opening with the beginnings of a retort, but Shizuo found himself cut off by the ring of a phone.

Hikari lifted herself up, glancing around the room. "That's mine." She realised, forcing herself to move towards the sound.

Shizuo's side felt bare and cold as she rolled off the bed, searching through her scattered clothes. He watched as her as she moved, studying the long legs and the lean waist. The stretch marks he had felt under his fingertips earlier could now be seen racing up her thighs, all the way to her hips, and he wondered if looking at them was how Hikari felt when she looked at the art she liked.

She found her phone hidden in a pocket on her skirt, pulling it out to check the caller ID. "Sorry, Shizuo, do you mind if I take this?"

He was still marvelling at her naked body when she asked, so all he did was numbly reply, "Yeah."

She smiled gratefully before answering the call with a cool, "Hello?"

He couldn't see her expression when she stood with her back to him, though he did catch the low, surprised, " _Oh,_ it's you." A moment later, she was whispering irritably, "You know I was in the middle of something, right? Why're you calling so late?"

Even in the dim light, her skin was as pale as porcelain, and she moved with the same sort of elegance that he imagined parodied the old, marble statues from ancient Rome. Hikari wasn't even aware of her allure, more intent upon the phone call. She didn't stop to check with Shizuo before slipping outside the room for more privacy.

" _I have the information you want_." A mocking voice drawled from the other end of the call.

Hikari was torn between impatience and elation. "What is it, Orihara? You know who did it?" she asked, feeling an unreasonable sense of urgency. She really didn't want to imagine what Shizuo would do if he heard any of this exchange.

" _Of course. That's what you asked me to find out,"_ Izaya pointed out, " _I know who killed your brother, and I know why."_

He waited a few moments for a reply, but upon receiving only silence, was prompted to ask, " _Shibata? You're still alive, aren't you?"_

"Of course," she replied snappishly, remembering how to breathe again, "Wait; do you know how I'm paying off the debt yet?"

She imagined Izaya was smirking on the other end as he declined to reply. "When would you like to meet?" he asked instead.

"Tomorrow." She decided, finding it an obvious answer.

 _"Tomorrow it is! You can meet me at three by Russia Sushi."_

"…Sure. That works for me." He hadn't really asked, but Hikari extended the courtesy to herself anyway.

" _I'll see you then, Hikari-chan-!"_

She hung up before Izaya could finish the sentence, unable to resist. The satisfaction of being able to shut him up, when she felt it was always the other way around, was immense. It left a smile on her face that fell away only to her rising sense of guilt.

She stood in the hallway, hesitating to return to the bedroom. She was going to have to, of course – she needed her clothes. But to face Shizuo, knowing that she conducting business with the one man he seemed to hate above all else and had warned her away from; she wasn't sure that even she had the nerve for that. And how would all that impact on whatever their relationship was? Did they even have a relationship? In all aspects of her life, everything had become too indefinable.

Hikari muffled a swear word behind her hands, stretching her hands into the air as though it would expel all the problems from her life. What she did know, if anything at all, was that even if not now, she was going to see Shizuo again eventually.

There was no point putting it off. That decided, she returned to the bedroom and left the door wide open behind her.

Shizuo now sat with his back against the wall, propped up by a few cushions, and with the sheets now drawn up to his waist. His fingers held an unlit cigarette, seeming to consider it for a moment. When he caught sight of her, Shizuo reached across and left it abandoned and unused in an ashtray by his bedside.

"Who was that?" he asked.

Hikari slipped on her underwear, gathering her top up from the ground and pulling it on next. "Someone annoying." She answered shortly.

Shizuo assumed it was her manager, never considering that it would be anyone else. If it was, he couldn't imagine why she wouldn't tell him.

She did up the first few buttons on her shirt, but Shizuo could still see the outline of her nipples, feel her breasts press up against him as she sat on the bed and leaned into his embrace. His hands rested on either side of her waist, one resting against her thigh without applying pressure.

His breath was hot against her neck, his kisses light. There was nothing to them, not force at all, but when he reached just under ear, teeth biting down accidently, he caught her sharp, stifled gasp immediately.

"Huh. So that's where you like it." He muttered, kissing her there again to test her reaction.

Hikari bit her lip to hide the pleasure. " _Shizuo_." She instead warned him away from doing that again.

"What?" he drew back, staring at her and grumbled, "You're acting strange; who _were_ you talking to?"

"No one!" she insisted, smiling innocently as she joked, "Why? _Jealous_ , Shizuo?"

He responded with a dry look, humourless, but it didn't stop her from kissing him quickly on the lips. If it was to help soften his response to her next words, it probably worked.

"I should go," Hikari told him levelly, pausing when his arms began to tighten around her, "…It's not like I'm disappearing into the night, you know. I'll just be the next door over."

Shizuo frowned. "Don't say that."

"Why?"

Because he knew that he would want to come see her and that he would end up missing her the moment she left – he was certain of it, even if all he said was, "…Don't worry about it." She wasn't ready to hear him say it, and he wasn't ready to tell her. There were other confessions that needed to come first.

Hikari tilted her head, obviously curious, but nodded and pulled away regardless. It wasn't like he was the only one hiding things after all.

She meant for that moment to mark the end, yet found herself still sitting on the bed, caught in his grip. His hands had come to rest against her neck, his fingers long enough to cup her jaw and tangle into the sloping cut of her hair. Hikari's surprise showed on her face, a mirror of his own incredulity. She had promised not to break, and as he touched her now, Shizuo was just beginning to realise what she had meant.

He wasn't going to stop her from going, but he did want her to wait just long enough for him to ask, "Is it my turn to kiss you?"

Hikari's face flushed red as she nodded. Shizuo, in accordance, took that as consent and leaned down to press a single, soft kiss to her lips. When he let her go, leaning back, Hikari took her chance to leave before she lost the will to move again.

Pulling on her skirt, gathering her remaining clothes and phone, she made it to the door only to hesitate. Her cheeks were still warm with a rosy blush when she glanced back, telling Shizuo, "We should do this again sometime." The door clicked shut behind her.

Outside that room, where he couldn't see her, Hikari could feel her vulnerability rising. She tried to move as quickly and quietly as possible down the hall, into the lounge room where she grabbed her bag and shoes, fumbling as she struggled to both act and think at the same time.

She told herself it was just physical. They hadn't done anything but kiss and fuck and then kiss some more – excluding that _I like you_ in the middle of their passion. Hikari, as a principle, refused to count confessions from others that came accompanied by sex And yet, her eyes blurred and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her unwarranted sob. God, she hated her damn, fucking principles.

There was so much inside her that she felt like she might burst; so much of her brother, of revenge, of desperation, deceit and guilt. And blossoming in the middle of all that mess, was the realization that she was beginning to fall in love with Shizuo Heiwajima.

So she couldn't stay. As much as she wanted to, there was no way she could ever have stayed any longer after the full weight of reality began to grow in its burden. She felt so guilty that it was hard to even consider looking him in the eyes.

Turning, on her way out, Hikari spotted their half-empty cups of coffee on the table, long since grown cold. She could almost taste the bitterness on her lips. Shizuo might have taught her the value of honesty, but it wasn't enough to stop her walking out that door.

If only he could fuck all the lies out of her as well.

* * *

 **'M' rating becomes a little more apparent here - even if it is a very vague sex scene at that (and my first - feel free to be critical).**

 **Finally entering the climax of the story, even if I'm not sure it reads that way. How's the pacing of relationships and plot?**

 **I love, love, love hearing feedback and reviews from you guys! It honestly makes my day; even if (sorry!) I'm too lazy to reply some (most/all) of the time. As always, thanks for reading!**


	15. fifteen

_weak points / FIFTEEN_

Hikari showed up fifteen minutes late, and when he asked her why, all she could think to say was, "I thought it would be funny."

It wasn't a lie. Izaya could tell with one quick glance that it wasn't and he almost wanted it to be. At least lies made the game fun.

"My time does cost you, you know." He warned her lightly.

He was the first to close the distance between them. Hikari had found him standing near _Russia Sushi_ , just as he had said he would. The sun was entering the last stretch of its arch through the sky, the days growing shorter and colder, the shadows lengthening as time moved on from their designated three o'clock meeting. It was Izaya who started walking first, wandering aimlessly down the street, expecting that Hikari would keep pace.

"So," Izaya began, neck craned over his shoulder, "How are you today?"

Hikari cocked her head. "…Why?"

He smiled his typical, sly smirk. "The bruises on your neck." He pointed out smugly.

Her cheeks immediately flushed red, with Hikari turning up the collar on her snug, grey coat. "What bruises?" she retorted. The marks Shizuo left on her from last night were no one else's business except theirs.

"I never imagined an idiot like Shizu-chan being able to exercise that sort of restraint." he mused to himself.

"Orihara, you really couldn't have any lower expectations of him, could you?" Hikari sighed, not even bothering to deny it. She wasn't sure where he got the idea from, but it hardly seemed to matter now.

"Would you like me to?"

"No. Honestly – why can't we just get to the point of this? Talking to you is tiring."

"And here I was thinking we could actually get along." Izaya bemoaned, though his smile was entirely contradictory.

Hikari hid her hands in the warmth of her coat pockets, twisting her past a group of teens passing by on the footpath. When she recovered her rhythm, catching up to Izaya, she remarked coolly, "Well, you might find that easier if you weren't such an asshole."

"Those sound like Shizuo's words, not yours."

She shrugged. "If that's what you want to believe. The way things are going though, I don't think I'll ever find anything redeemable in you."

"Ah, well, that's fine with me," Izaya said, amused, "We find each other equally as disappointing."

"Excuse me?"

Izaya waved his hand through the air, smiling flippantly. "Oh, it's just that you make such boring choices for such an intriguing person."

Though he couldn't see the irritation written on her frown, he could hear it in her tone of voice as she replied, "You don't know me well enough to judge."

"I know more about you than you think, Hikari," Izaya said, turning so that he could meet her gaze, "And, at the very least, I'm sure I know more about you than Shizu-chan does. Am I right?"

She pulled her coat closer about her. Izaya's gaze was as piercing as ever, and his expression so mocking that, for as much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn't get the words out. He was already so certain of the things that he said that it there was no point even trying to refute it.

"But don't worry; I don't plan on telling him. There are certain things that hurt more when said by the right person. And I'm guessing that's what you are to him-"

"Right now," Hikari interjected coolly, her glare chilling enough to catch his attention, "You're just wasting _my_ time, Orihara. Just tell me what I want to know."

The sooner she could cut him out, the better. Once this deal ended, Hikari was sure it would be easier to face Shizuo in their next encounter. That was no guarantee that she would be telling him the truth however – the opposite was far more likely. If Izaya could tell her _who_ , she could find out _where_ , and maybe then she could finally let her brother go to rest.

Her hands still shook at the thought, the memory of that phone call and all the butterfly effect that sent her life spinning rapidly off on a tangent.

Izaya watched her in silence for a few, short seconds, before then glancing down at his phone. Hikari was looking so steadfastly ahead that she never noticed his behaviour, and would have forgotten it anyway with his next words.

"You want to know who killed your brother, Ryuji Shibata?"

She felt as if all the air had fled her lungs in one short breath. "Yes."

Izaya watched her carefully, curious as to her reaction when he answered, so lightly, with a name that bore so much weight. "It was Tatsuo Sawamura."

There was, for a moment, nothing but silence before Hikari plastered on the most brilliant of all her fake smiles that he had yet to see. "That bastard." Hikari declared, her hands curling into fists.

"You seem to know the name." Izaya remarked, still taking in her reaction. He was sure that, at this point, a few choice words would be all it took to reach the limits of her patience.

Of course she knew the name. Hikari wanted to scream it from the top of her lungs, even as she struggled to take in any breath at all, and stood still without moving, without saying anything at all. She wasn't sure how to articulate the years that she had tried to put between her and this man, or how to even begin to explain the amount of anger welling up inside her. She had thought, for sure, that Tatsuo Sawamura had taken enough from her already and that he would never go so far as to betray a friend like Ryuji Shibata.

"…I suppose we all have relationships that end badly," Hikari muttered at last, "Tatsuo Sawamura just happens to be one of mine."

Izaya played the part of a solemn outsider well. "Would you like to know more?"

"Yes."

"Alright then," he began with a nonchalant shrug, "Tatsuo Sawamura is a relatively new name in the area. He's rumoured to be the second-choice heir to the Sawamura conglomerate. What I know about him is that he started out as the rebellious son, was the leader of some small gang, and the Sawamura family decided to build on that foundation and use this to their advantage – I wouldn't say they're yakuza, but they're something close to it," Izaya explained, "Tatsuo is in charge of all the dirty work they do."

She shouldn't have been as surprised as she was, considering the type of person he had been in the past, but she couldn't help the ache in her chest. It was always going to be painful – and in the end, it would be Tatsuo Sawamura who would have to deal with that pain. Already she had begun to fixate her revenge on him, changing her plans in accordance.

"I still don't understand why he would kill my brother." Hikari mused. If anything, it made less sense to her. Tatsuo had seemed to be on good terms with Ryuji when she last saw them together – or at least, bore no known animosity that might want to make Tatsuo murder him, and frame it as a suicide.

Izaya shortened his steps, levelling his steps to match hers. As they fell into parallel, side-by-side on the street, he leaned down to murmur an impartation of secrets into her ear. "Well," Izaya said, smirking all the while, "That might have something to do with trafficking the Sawamuras are involved in."

Just this once, she didn't mind how close he was when her head snapped up and pinned him down. "Drugs?" she asked, half-hopefully.

"Humans."

She felt as if the ground gave way beneath her. "What…?" Hikari struggled to push aside her nausea, "You're saying Ryuji found out, and tried to stop them?"

"Only they stopped him first; with a shot right to the head." Izaya concluded trivially.

Hikari stumbled, blamed on her heels rather than admit she felt sickeningly dizzy. Her hand landed on Izaya's arm to stop herself from falling, causing him to glance back and catch her before she slipped any further.

His observation of her was nothing but calculating. "You didn't know that," he realised, "But if you never saw the original autopsy reports, how _did_ you know about your brother's murder?"

"He left me a letter." She answered weakly, deciding that she could give him that much in return for the name of Tatsuo Sawamura.

"Ah, a forward-thinker," Izaya declared, and he was smiling once more, "I always did admire that in Ryuji."

She glowered, pulling her arms from his grip just so that she could cross them and glare across at him. Izaya didn't seem to mind her irritation.

"Anything else?" he asked expectantly.

"If I do ask you anything else, won't it just worsen my debt?" she guessed, pursuing her lips, "After all, I'm pretty sure I only asked for a name."

"You've had enough?"

"I know enough." She amended sharply, "Now, how am I paying you back?"

Izaya smiled coyly, moving so that they stood directly facing each other. His fingers came to rest against her chin, tilting her head upwards so that he could observe her properly. The light hit her cheeks in just the right way, casting shadows over her neck and the curve of her lips.

"A kiss." He announced simply.

" _What_?" Hikari's grimace offered Izaya the chance he wanted to check the crowd surrounding them.

"Just one," Izaya insisted, "But it's a limited offer. If you don't take it in the next minute I'll think of something more costly."

"…What do you get out of it?"

He was smiling, knowing that Hikari was sizing him up. He knew that, if anything, it wouldn't be his looks that deterred her. "I get a kiss," Izaya replied, leaving his reasons undecorated with lies, "I get to steal a kiss from Shizu-chan's girlfriend."

"I'm…not his..." Hikari muttered, announcing her thoughts out loud.

She wasn't really sure what her and Shizuo were, but she was pretty sure that _dating_ was not one of them; not yet, at least. And it was just a kiss. Surely one kiss that Shizuo never had to know about wouldn't matter, and could be kept buried along with all her other secrets. It was those smaller doubts that helped rationalise her actions. She couldn't justify throwing away months of work simply for the feelings of one man. Besides, it was just business.

It was that excuse that led Hikari to grip the collar of Izaya's jacket, to pull him down to a more reasonable height. She caught a glimpse of a smile as he leaned in closer, one hand still holding hers in place, before their lips met – and what was one more mistake in the litany of all her others?

She held him there for a total of three counts, and had just made it to the second when the sound of screeching metal and shattering concrete caught her attention. They both knew what followed.

"I-ZA- _YA!"_

Hikari found there was a certain irony in hearing Shizuo's voice at that exact moment. Of course, if she was going to fuck up, it would be in the most colossal way possible.

If it hadn't been for Izaya's quick reflexes, pushing the two of them apart, the give-way sign hurled their way might have split them in two. Hikari was almost too shocked to react as the metal missile became lodged into the footpath between them, spraying shattered concrete everywhere. The crowd, as she was only aware of absently, quickly began to thin out around them.

She glanced up, catching Izaya's eye, and immediately scowled. "You planned this!" she accused, "That information you gave me surely wasn't worth this much!"

She could see it in his eyes, the answer that he didn't have the time to explain. It was fun, Izaya's smile seemed to tell her, and there was no way he was not going to do everything within his power to take away anything good Shizuo ever found for himself.

Yet the only words out of his mouth to her were, "See you later, Kari-chan!"

She almost started running off after him, a curse already leaving her lips. " _Izaya-!"_

Her cry was overlapped by another voice, a call that froze her to the spot. " _Hikari!"_ Shizuo certainly sounded angry; she hated to know what kind of expression he was wearing right now as well.

She felt his fingers first on her arm, gripping her tightly as he spun her around to face him. Shizuo's other hand caught her shoulder, steadying her, but making it impossible to escape the heated glare sent her way.

"What the fuck was that?" he demanded, so close to her that their foreheads bumped against each other, "Why the hell were _you_ – and that damn fucking flea-!"

Hikari could only stare up at him, wide-eyed, taking in the furrow of his brow, the way his lips curled into a scowl, and his fingers began to dig into her jacket. She deserved it – she deserved every bit of his anger – but how could she even begin to explain a betrayal that she couldn't even regret?

" _Explain!"_

"I-!" There weren't even any words, not a single half-baked excuse, to offer him in that moment.

There was no point even trying to withstand the pure rage with which Shizuo acted, and no moment to even begin to contemplate _how_ , if there even was a way. "Hikari!" he growled, his voice growing dangerously low, "Tell me right now so I can get on with killing Izaya."

"If you give me a moment!" she cried. Her eyes burned, her throat ached; she was sure this was what desperation felt like, but she refused to cry in public.

"It shouldn't take you more than a moment!"

"To tell the truth it does – for me!" she retorted. The more he pushed, the more she wanted to shove back.

He pulled her a step closer, eyes narrowing. A shiver ran down her spine at the chilling look he gave her, so close to calm that Hikari was sure it promised he was anything but. " _What_?" he snapped, "The truth? You mean you've been lying to me?"

" _No_! Well, yes, but-!"

"Which is it? _"_

Her eyes stung with tears that she refused to let fall, no matter what sort of chaos was tearing through her right now. She couldn't think straight, she knew that much, but it didn't stop her from saying, "Just because I kissed Orihara doesn't mean it's any of your business!"

"Not my _business_? How the fuck can you stand there and tell me that after last night?"

"Because we had sex? That doesn't mean you get to own me." she scoffed, though she was kidding herself if she honestly thought that was Shizuo's mindset. But to her, it was just sex. They hadn't confessed to having any sort of emotional attachment, and she couldn't just take what lay implied between them as reality – and when, in all the time they had known each other, had they really gone any further than fucking?

"So you want me to just ignore everything that's happened?"

"Well, it _would_ help." She admitted; cool when he burned hot with anger.

"Even though all you've been doing is lying to me?" he argued loudly, his resentment leading to a slight exaggeration on his behalf.

Hikari could feel the steel rising within her, bristling with indignation. "Don't tell me you're okay with my secrets if you're not!"

"Well I _was_ – until it involved that damn fucking flea! And you were kissing him – even though we-!"

His last few words caught in his throat. Hikari was looking away, biting her lip, and though there would once have been a time where he might have dismissed the glimmer of tears, it would never be that way with her.

"You're hurting me, Shizuo…" she breathed suddenly, wincing at stiffness his grip, "Please just let me go."

His hands fell away immediately. He hadn't even known how tight his grip had been, but as he stared at his fingers now, he wondered why; why he couldn't just touch something without breaking it. Hikari's promise that he could was a lie, and he felt like an idiot for believing it in the first place.

"Shizuo…" she muttered, taking a step closer as she tried to catch his gaze.

"I gotta go," he declared suddenly, recoiling away from her, "Have to kill that damn flea."

He took another step backwards, and three more around her. It took Hikari just as long to find the breath, the strength of will, to turn on her heel and watch him go. She hesitated to follow him, failing as apprehension and anxiety weighed her to the spot.

" _Shizuo!"_

It wasn't enough to stop him leaving. She couldn't move quickly enough, her fingers couldn't hold him tight enough, her voice just wasn't strong enough. She could never hope to reach him the way she was now, and the most rational parts of Hikari already understood that. If she had reached her capacity for deceit and her quota for lies told, then it only made sense that she would burn out; from a firework to a fizzle.

* * *

 **Thank you for reviewing the last chapter! Enjoy the angst - and hopefully the plot as well, as some of the answers begin to fall into place.**

 **If you're confused at this point (like me, because that's just my natural state) hopefully one or some of the following chapters will help straighten everything out.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	16. sixteen

_weak points / SIXTEEN_

In this city, there were only a very few select things Celty Sturluson needed to pay attention to; namely the police, Izaya Orihara, and road signs.

The glittering lights around her were certainly not something she paid any particular mind to, though they certainly added to the atmosphere as she shot through the Ikebukuro streets. The night was still young at this time, pale colours seeping their way into the stars as the sunset quickly faded. Celty wondered if Shinra was looking at the same sky as she, and what they should cook for dinner tonight. She liked filling her metaphorical head with such mundane worries, convincing herself that she was more human than she was.

Glancing around, she noted the absence of Ikebukuro's typical crowd. The consequence of it being a Tuesday, she supposed; only it wasn't. Celty couldn't tell, for lack of interest and curiosity, but came across an explanation the moment she turned the corner. If she hadn't had the innate reflexes to slow down, she might have crashed right into the give-way sign lodged into the side of the road.

The pavement was shattered from the apparent initial impact, debris scattered over the road. Following the street to the adjoining road, there was a gaping hole in the footpath and jagged cracks in the road from where the sign had been torn from, thrown almost a full ten metres to where it lay now. Celty wasn't sure what was the appropriate amount of surprise – obviously, Shizuo Heiwajima was behind this.

Surrounding the vicinity of the damage was an absence of company. It was as if everyone had fled the area after the incident, even though Shizuo was nowhere in sight and the only other person around seemed to be the figure sitting on a bench, so entirely still Celty almost overlooked them.

Staring a little harder, attention directed to the cut of their hair and the way they fiddled with the phone in their hand, it was with a jolt of familiarity that Celty recognised Hikari Shibata. Celty was pulling over to the side of the road in a moment, guided more by instinct than thought.

Hikari had glanced up at the sound of the dying engine, catching Celty's attention at the same time the as she looked across at her. She didn't move, only wiped a hand across her eyes. For as much as Hikari felt like she could trust Celty, as a friend, she shared her tears with no one.

She was greeted first with a wave, and then with a message typed out on Celty's PDA. " _What happened here?"_

Hikari smiled lightly. "Shizuo." She supplied simply.

" _That was obvious."_

She couldn't even begin to guess Celty's mind, her motivations, as she took a seat on the bench next to Hikari. They were silent for a moment. Hikari fiddled with her phone, turning it over in her hands.

"…He won't answer my calls."

She surprised even herself by breaking the silence. There was just something about Celty that convinced Hikari to drop her guard – and perhaps, there was a little part of her that wanted someone, anyone at all, to rely on.

Celty held her PDA out to read. " _Did something happen with Shizuo? Is that why there's a street sign lying in the middle of the road?"_

Hikari nodded, blurting out before she could stop herself, "Yeah, but it's my fault, I guess."

" _How?"_

Celty's question was innocent enough, but met with silence. Hikari felt queasy thinking about the answer to her question.

" _You can trust me."_ Celty insisted. It was hard to tell, but Hikari had to guess this was concern.

"…Please don't tell anyone else about this," Hikari began to say. It wasn't like Celty was entirely an outsider to matter anyway, having seen Hikari and Izaya together before all of this even began, "Shizuo has every right to be angry. I mean, we did go out on a date yesterday, and he did see me kissing Orihara today."

" _What?"_

Hikari's forced a smile, biting her tongue. "It was just business." She assured weakly, as if trying to justify her actions to herself.

" _But that doesn't make it okay!"_ Celty told her, before backspacing furiously and adding, " _Sorry! I don't mean I don't support you. Shizuo would see it that way though-"_

"I know, I know," Hikari almost laughed, as Celty fumbled through an explanation, "I agree with you."

" _You don't seem like someone who would play with Shizuo like that, though. Or at least, I want to believe that you're not like that."_

"Thank you Celty, but I'm honestly not sure what sort of a person I am. And I don't want to try and justify hurting Shizuo, because I'm pretty sure that's what I did." Hikari bit her lip, looked back down to the phone in her lap. No returned calls. "…I kind of didn't think he'd care about me as much as he did."

Celty's shoulder nudged hers forcefully, shoving the PDA under her nose so that she could read the exclamation of, " _I've never seen Shizuo get along with anyone the way he does with you."_ She retracted the device to replace the message with another, her fingers tapping across the screen so fast Hikari couldn't object before she was being told, " _I could tell when I dropped you off from Izaya's office. He waited for you, which means that, on some level, he must like you - ! Wait-!"_

Hikari watched Celty perplexedly, confused by the sudden end of the message. The black-clothed rider had taken to typing on the PDA once more, no longer as fast as she had before. There was a peculiar calm air around Celty that filled Hikari with apprehension.

When the phone was held back out to her, Hikari pulled her hair back behind her ear as she read Celty's message. " _Does that time you were with Izaya have something to do with this?"_

"…We made a deal. I needed information." She conceded softly, almost helping Celty wouldn't hear, "Look, it's not something you need to worry about-!"

" _I don't mind. As Shizuo's friend, and as yours, I want to help if it's possible."_

"Thank you, Celty, but honestly it's not necessary," Hikari insisted, feigning nonchalance, "I don't mean to get anyone involved in something that's my problem to deal with. I didn't even mean to get Shizuo involved, although it's a bit late to regret that…If you see him tonight, do you think you could tell him that?"

" _Sure."_

Hikari smiled happily, her guilt somewhat eased. It helped to know that, no matter what happened next, she could leave some sort of message for Shizuo to alleviate their argument. She hated for things to end so inconclusively.

As she rose from the seat, Hikari found herself restrained by a hand on her wrist. Glancing back, she was met with the question, " _Where are you going?"_

"There's someone I need to go meet – and old friend." She spoke of Tatsuo Sawamura with a smile, though her body burned with anger at the thought of him.

" _Will you be okay?_ " Celty asked, adding quickly, " _I'll give you my number so you can call if you get into trouble."_

Hikari hesitated, but something about the other woman's posture told her Celty wasn't going to relent any time. With a small sigh, Hikari gave in and handed her phone over. Celty was quick, like usual, in typing in the number and handing the phone back to her.

"Thanks, Celty," she said, lifting her hand up as she made a hasty escape, "See you 'round."

The black rider waved back, half-hearted, but it was impossible to tell what that woman's thoughts were. True as that was for Celty, it was the same for Hikari. There was no telling the depths of her hatred from the cool exterior that masked any and all signs of her anger. Her gaze was calculating, her lips set in a firm line that dissuaded further approaches of conversation.

There was only one thing Hikari wanted to do right now – find Tatsuo Sawamura. She meant to return home, to utilize her outlets. She could send a message to the Dollars mailing group and ask around in the chatroom she'd joined earlier. There were even a few people who worked for the yakuza who might know a thing or two. Hikari would pull on all her resources to find him, with the one exception of Izaya Orihara. In that matter, she should have followed Shizuo's advice from the start.

A cool wind blew through the street, pressing against her back. Hikari, hands shoved in her pockets, pulled her jacket closer to her and tossed the hair from her eyes. When she glanced back at the distant whinny on an engine, she caught a glimpse of Celty riding off into the city, swallowed by its lights.

Rolling her shoulders, she turned to face forward once more. The weight of her phone in her pocket urged her try calling Shizuo again, but a voice in the back of her mind wondered what the point of that would be. It wasn't like Hikari could say anything to make it all better – in fact, she would probably only make it worse.

Shizuo was a distraction, and he was the last pleasant thought on her mind before Hikari's feet gave way beneath her.

At first, she wasn't quite sure what was happening. There was a grip on her arm, a hand on her shoulder, and her feet were stumbling across the pavement as some force stronger than all her confusion pulled her close. The darkness of the alley swallowed Hikari whole, and in between those tall brick walls, Ikebukuro was worlds away.

The pressure on her arms increased, and Hikari's shock left her with little more than the ability to cry out in pain. She tried to turn, but the arms restraining her kept her still and hidden in the alley she had been walking past.

Breath rushed from her lungs as the hands moved from her arms to her throat, fingers pressing up against her windpipe. Something warm brushed against her ear – a whisper.

"I would have preferred a different sort of reunion."

Hikari kicked back frantically, her fingers tearing at those around her throat. _"…You…." She_ gasped, tears blurring her vision.

Through the panic, the heartbeat that thudded in her ears and the air that wouldn't come, Hikari found herself recognising her attacker in the small glimpses of their character – the smell of their cologne, a smile pressing itself like a kiss to her cheek. It was all so reminiscent of a different time, of a man who had always seemed to be far beyond her ability to handle.

"Did you miss me?" Tatsuo Sawamura murmured.

Her skin burned, her bones ached, her lungs ached for breath. The reverberations of the man's voice shook her to the core, replacing all her fire with ice and steel and a will that wiped any thought but that of Ryuji and revenge from her mind. He was a man she could never forget, as if he were a part of her blood, a memory she couldn't erase after they'd spent so much time either fucking or fucking each other over.

Her consciousness began to slip away as his chokehold remained firm. It was only dimly that she heard him say, "…You know, I never did get along well with my exes."

If Hikari had just one breath left to spare, then she considered it well spent just to say, " _Neither do I."_

She wondered if this were a dream, because if Tatsuo Sawamura really was there with her then it meant that all her wishes had worked – and that would be her last, coherent thought before the city lights were traded for darkness.

* * *

 **Updates provide good distractions - and not just from exams, this time. You can probably guess what I'm talking about - Paris, Baghdad, Beirut, Japan (and there is probably some place that I have forgotten given the Western media's tendency to focus on Western countries).**

 **I hope that none of you were caught up in what's happened/happening, or that none of your friends/family were. None of this is relevant to my story, but I thought I'd just make a mention of it because it's so important to be aware of the world around us (not just fictional worlds, which I'm super guilty of indulging in).**

 **Until the next update, thank you for reading!**


	17. seventeen

_weak points / SEVENTEEN_

He had to wonder what kind of a woman Hikari was to love like she did. Volatile, unpredictable – that was the way he thought of her now. Shizuo was sure that, if he saw her now and she wound her arms around him and kissed him at the base of their apartment stairs, he would forgive her in a heartbeat. As much as he wanted to hate her, he had a feeling that her love would irresistible.

The thought was enough to make him scowl, his footsteps like lead as he thudded up the stairs. He didn't really want to think Hikari Shibata after seeing her kiss that human _pile of garbage,_ Izaya Orihara. But why couldn't he just stop? It was impossible to shake away the thought of her lips, and how her back had arched when he ran his fingers along it. Maybe _she_ was the flea.

"Um, excuse me!"

Shizuo started at the sudden voice, thinking that he had been alone. When he glanced up the hall, it was to the silhouette of a man in a suit, clean cut hair but with an expression that seemed innately exaggerated.

Shizuo frowned, saw that the mean was standing in front of Hikari's apartment, and realised that it was her manager.

"Yeah?" he replied gruffly.

The man, Hiroyuki Ishikawa, took a few steps forward and bowed his head first. "You're Miss Shibata's neighbour, right?"

"…Yeah."

"What was your name?" Ishikawa asked, before blinking suddenly and exclaiming, "Oh, but do you remember who I am? Hiroyuki Ishikawa's the name – I'm Hikari's manager-!"

"I remember." Shizuo interjected curtly. He was not in the mood to deal with joviality after today – it didn't help that Izaya seemed to have disappeared from Ikebukuro, leaving Shizuo to return home without even having killed anyone. "Is there something you need?"

Ishikawa snapped to attention, his brilliant smile dwindling to nothing. "Yes," he said, surprising Shizuo with an air of seriousness, "Have you seen Hikari recently?"

He had, but the peculiarity of the question had Shizuo answering, "…How recently?"

"Well, I haven't heard from her in ages."

"Doesn't she usually not answer?"

Ishikawa puffed out his cheeks, sighing heavily. " _Yes_ ," he had admitted heavily, "But it's different this time. I'm a little worried – ever since her brother passed away, she's become kinda reclusive – but we were meant to meet at her apartment today to discuss her future plans."

Shizuo frowned, crossed his arms. It wasn't any of his business, he thought, but it didn't help curb his curiosity. "Maybe she bailed." He suggested, thinking about how she had done the same to him.

Ishikawa threw up his hands, dramatically declaring, "But _she_ was the one that _asked_ for this! She's not the type of person to commit to something she doesn't want!"

"Yes she is."

"What was that-?"

Shizuo bit his tongue, swallowed his bitterness. "Nothing." He dismissed quickly, and in searching for a distraction, found himself marching towards Hikari's door.

"If she's in there, she doesn't want to answer." Ishikawa warned him.

"I'll check." Shizuo said, shrugging his shoulders.

"But it's locked-!"

Shizuo moved with a nonchalance that was entirely contrary to his actions, the tight grip that turned the handle so forcefully the metal itself bent in the imprint of his fingers. The grating of the straining lock ended with a resounding snap, the door handle easily turning the rest of the way as Shizuo's sheer strength broke through the catch and the door swung open before them.

"…Oh." Ishikawa murmured, staring with wide eyes.

Shizuo didn't offer any excuses as he walked on inside Hikari's apartment. He was enveloped by the darkness, and fumbled for the switch on the wall. It felt abandoned even before the lights flickered on, and her messy apartment was put on full display. Clippings, a few old newspapers and various other papers lay on the table, like the they had last time he visited, and the rooms he could see into were full of boxes and the necessities it took to live somewhere – but Hikari was nowhere to be found.

Ishikawa chewed his nails, glancing around quickly. "…I really am worried about her. It's just so unusual…"

Shizuo scowled at the words, the feelings rising within him. He could feel his stomach twist, his chest beginning to ache. Try as he might, he couldn't deny that he was growing concerned. Ishikawa's anxiety only added to his own. Perhaps Izaya had done something to her, or perhaps she'd done something to herself. He would never have known because she would never have told him in the first place.

Maybe if he found her, she'd be inclined to apologise. If that were the case, then it would be enough of a reason for him to act.

"…I'm going to go look for her." Shizuo declared.

Ishikawa glanced up from the ground, his apprehension seeming to collapse under the weight of his broad grin. "You will? That's wonderful! Oh, I'll give you my business card!"

"Huh? Why?"

"So you can call me when you find her. Or tell her to give me a call!" Ishikawa handed the small card across, eye-catching for the vibrant colours that spelled out the name of his agency.

When the brown haired man turned on his heel, beginning to retreat up the hall, Shizuo called out, "Where are you going?"

"I'm a busy man! I have other things to do other than wait for her," That coming from the same man who had waited a day just to catch Hikari at her apartment, "Plus, my boyfriend would kill me for missing dinner again because of work!"

Shizuo raised one eyebrow, but didn't question in it any further. He supposed that this erraticism and unpredictability might have been typical in the actions of Ishikawa, and he didn't really know enough to form an opinion beyond that.

As it where, there was no stopping Ishikawa regardless. With a small wave and a wide grin, Ishikawa left the apartment. From the hall, he called out, "Please, call me when you find her!" His silhouette lasted only a second longer than the echo of his words, before the sound of Ishikawa's receding footsteps were all that was left resounding out of the hall.

Shizuo waited a moment, thinking this all over, before summoning up the resolve to finally move out into the hall itself. He shut the apartment door behind, praying that no one would think to test the lock before there came a chance to fix it.

Now that he was alone, he had the coherency of thought to think it all through. Hikari had lied to him, probably since the beginning, and she had gone and kissed another man even after agreeing to that date with him. She was manipulative, cold, and unapologetic, yet he couldn't chase her smile from his mind. His apprehension over her disappearance only seemed to confirm just how much he liked her.

That thought acted as his driving force, leading Shizuo back down the hallway and stairs he had just walked up. What he really, desperately needed was a smoke, but he doubted he'd be calm enough at the moment to even get the lighter working.

A cool night met him when he stepped out the door. Shizuo glanced both ways as he stepped forward, seeing that the crowd has thinned out as tea time approached. He wasn't quite sure where to start looking for Hikari, but perhaps returning one of her several missed calls might be a start.

Just as Shizuo pulled out his phone, the distant sound of a motorbike stalled his actions. Glancing up, he saw the sight he expected; Celty, racing around the corner of the street. Curiously, he found her pulling up in front of his building, his skin prickling as he sensed her attention was on him.

Stepping closer, Shizuo drew level with Celty. Before he could get even so much as a word out, he was cut off by the phone held out towards him.

" _She told me to tell you that she didn't mean to get you involved, even if it's too late to regret it."_

"Huh?" Shizuo faltered, frowning deeply, "Hikari, you mean?"

Celty nodded. " _I don't think she meant to hurt you."_

But she did, he thought, before shaking away thoughts of their argument. There were more pressing problems. "How long ago did you see her?" Shizuo asked suddenly.

" _Maybe an hour – enough time to finish a job first, at least."_

His frown worsened, grew into a scowl. An hour was more than enough time to make it back to their apartment, even on foot and even in heels.

Celty held her PDA higher. " _Why?"_

"Seems like she's missing." Shizuo answered bluntly.

" _What?!"_ Celty almost fell off her bike as she forced her phone under his nose, alarm evident. She drew it back to add, " _Have you tried calling her?"_

"I was about to."

" _If she doesn't answer, I'll drive you around to look for her,"_ Celty declared, the void beneath her helmet rejecting all light as she moved impatiently, " _She was acting strange when I talked to her, but I thought it was just to do with what happened with you and Izaya."_

Shizuo could almost have cracked the phone in his hand, resenting having to read the name. In a way, some small rational part of him told him that maybe it would be better if that was the truth, if that was all there was to it.

Shizuo couldn't imagine anything worse and he didn't want to, but he had to know the truth, just this once. Even if he told himself that he was calling only so she could apologise to him, he knew that the real reason – the simple desire to want to hear her voice – was far more likely at this point.

* * *

 **Short chapter and not much to say - except maybe another thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **This chapter and the next few overlap in time, though sometimes not in setting, so hopefully it doesn't get to confusing!**


	18. eighteen

_weak points / EIGHTEEN_

When his fingers passed over the curve of her lips, Hikari had to repress her shivers. She refused to shake at the force of his breath or bend to the weight of his hands against her – no force on heaven or on earth could ever make her submit to Tatsuo Sawamura again.

He hadn't said much as he knelt to look at her, but something in her expression seemed to amuse him. Tatsuo smiled – and suddenly, she was reminded of how they first met outside the gates of her old high school. He had been passing by, and stopped only to punch Hikari's then-boyfriend for the insults he had thrown her way.

Back then, he had seemed so charming and enigmatic. She was drawn to the way he offered to walk her home, to how he wore his hair and was so much taller and stronger than she was. He had been striking – for more than just his tan skin and brilliant blue eyes – but also for the intensity of his nature and the aloofness with which he conducted himself. Now she understood that those thoughts were nothing but a cheap romanticisation of his short temper and detachedness.

No matter what kind of smile he showed her now, he would never seem the same to her as he had back then.

Hikari wasn't sure if it were the changes in herself that made her feel that way, or if he had truly grown into someone detestable. Whatever it was, she was fully committed in her hatred and no matter how amiably he presented himself now, she knew without a doubt that the worst parts of her would never allow his forgiveness.

At last, seemingly satisfied, Tatsuo stood and straightened his suit. Looking up, he seemed to fill the space of the cavernous warehouse she had been brought to, even though it was truthfully enough to house quite a bit more; even despite the size of his ego.

"I hope you're comfortable sitting like that," Tatsuo drawled, his eyes lingering on Hikari as he stepped backwards, "You're not going to be moving from there for a while yet."

He snapped his fingers and one of the suited men surrounding them pulled forward an old office chair from some obscure corner of the warehouse he had dragged her into. She glanced around at the empty boxes, the trash and graffiti; all of which told her that this place had been abandoned for quite some time. Honestly, it wasn't much different from his hold haunts when Tatsuo had been a simple gang leader.

"No, no, I'm fine," Hikari assured, playing along with Tatsuo's nonchalance, "You seem to be doing well for yourself." She nodded towards the several men standing around the room at intervals, though whether they were yakuza working beneath him or simply hired goons was beyond her ability to tell. Either way, they were sure to make it more difficult to kill Tatsuo.

Tatsuo reclined back in his chair, regarding her indifferently. "My parents decided I was worth the investment. Seems they thought I could lend a hand running the family business."

"Oh, you mean the sex trafficking?"

"It's really not that bad."

"It really _is_ that bad."

Tatsuo leaned on his knuckles. "Agree to disagree?"

Hikari pressed her hands against the cool concrete she had been shoved onto, feeling the ache in her knees from where she had slammed against it. She was going to bruise in the morning – if she lived that long. She greeted Tatsuo's chilling glare with a polite smile, saying conversationally, "It wasn't an opinion, Tatsuo – you don't get to argue with things that are facts."

He didn't respond with anything more than a curt, "Now you're just stalling."

"Hm? Why do you think that?"

He smiled once more, amused. "Fine, I'll play along," he muttered, "You just want to avoid the real issue."

"Which is?" Hikari asked innocently.

"Let's start with the fact that you broke the nose of one of my men."

She laughed humourlessly. "Good! He shouldn't have followed me into that alley."

"The second problem," Tatsuo continued unperturbed, "Is the question of why you've been snooping in my business in the first place. If you really missed me that much, there were easier ways to get me to come and see you."

"Wait – do you seriously think that, after everything you put me through, it would be possible for me to still miss you?" Hikari hid her smile behind her fingers, knowing that it would only piss him off even more, "Oh my god, I didn't think your head could fit any further up your ass!"

From where he sat, looking down at her disdainfully, Tatsuo leaned forward and pinned her down with the sheer intensity of his gaze. His temper was as short as ever, but Hikari wasn't bothered. She didn't intend to humour him – she intended to kill him.

To think that she might still be the type of woman to hold her tongue and try to avoid his anger was stupid of him. She wasn't the same girl any more, and she certainly wasn't going to show him any courtesy after he had knocked her out, letting her wake up just in time to find herself being dragged roughly inside the warehouse where they were now. The memory of the number painted onto the doors flashed through her memory.

"Fine," she conceded, calming herself, "You want to know what I want, I suppose?"

He only stared at her in anticipation. After all her practice, Hikari easily faked a smile in reply.

"I suppose that if I want to start living an honest life, I may as well start now." she muttered to herself. Their gazes clashed as she looked up, and refused to falter as she declared brightly, "Tatsuo Sawamura, what I really want most in the world is to see you dead."

His impassivity was lost amongst his wide, manic grin. "Now, I wonder why that would be."

"More than that," she continued conversationally, "I want to be the one to kill you. I hope you don't mind – I guess I really just _don't_ get along well with my exes."

His harsh features rose in scepticism; a form of silent, mocking laughter. "So the hatred is mutual – I guess you can't say we don't have anything in common anymore."

"You want to kill me too?"

"I'm considering it," Tatsuo admitted nonchalantly, "Want a smoke?"

His question caught her off guard, just as the ease with which they conversed seemed to cause a few odd glances between the men surrounding them. When Tatsuo held out his hand, the tall, balding man by his side held a cigarette out for him.

"I quit after my brother died." Hikari answered at last.

Tatsuo's fingers dug around the inside pocket of his suit for a lighter. "…Bit late to try and make it up to him now." He muttered. She wondered if he knew the effect of his words, if he knew how deep they could reach inside her. She couldn't stop her hands from shaking – but was it from fear or anger? Hikari had long since lost the ability to distinguish the two emotions, when both set her heart racing and her skin flushing in anticipation.

She focused on Tatsuo instead, pulling the lighter out from his jacket. He had always kept one on him, even back when they used to date. The way he tilted it now reminded her of all the times he had lit her cigarette for her, standing under streetlights at midnight, wrapping his arm around her waist as he did so.

The movement had him shifting in his seat, allowing Hikari to glimpse the cool metal flash of the gun tucked into his waistband.

"So you want to kill me, huh?" he muttered, "I can't imagine why that would be."

Her fingers curled into tight fists – what a fat fucking lie. "We both now there's only one person who'd I ever consider killing someone for." She announced coldly.

Shizuo's face flitted through her thoughts for a moment, and she wondered how much of what she said was actually true. Perhaps at one point it had been, but by now, the lies just seemed to roll out of her – she found herself realizing that, just like she'd kill for Ryuji, she might also do the same for Shizuo now. Not that Tatsuo needed to know that.

"You're talking about Ryuji, I suppose?"

"He _is_ what this whole thing is about."

Tatsuo tapped the cigarette against the arm of his chair. "Why is it my fault that your brother killed himself? Just because he couldn't handle his job?"

Hikari didn't answer him immediately, leaving him to observe her in silence. Though she knelt before him, as he wanted her to, he couldn't help but feel uneasy looking at her. Though her gaze was lowered now, hidden behind the tangle of hair that fell to her shoulders like a choppy, black sea, he knew what he would see in her expression when she looked up. The years had seen Hikari grow into something different, a person he didn't know and couldn't recognise. Ryuji's death had made her into a woman who was more than he could handle.

" _Suicide_?" It was her laughter that was most startling, "You're still going to go with that old lie?"

Ryuji Shibata would never kill himself while he still had someone to live for – the very idea that he might was so ironic it was actually quite amusing.

Hikari glanced up, her emerald eyes burning up with feverish desire. "How pathetic are you, Tatsu-?!"

His hand struck her cheek, cutting off her sentence. She knew that it was meant as a promise, of pain and loss, of waking up to an empty room in an empty house after everything had been taken away from her. Tatsuo meant to promise her all of that, only what he forgot to realise was that there was nothing left to take from her.

The force knocked Hikari down into the concrete, her shoulder slamming back against it. She stayed down, rolling onto her back and smiling melancholically up at the ceiling.

The office chair creaked as Tatsuo settled back into it. "The question is, now that you know, whether I sell you or kill you."

"You don't plan on compromising, boss?" one of the men asked, his question distant in her ears.

"I had," Tatsuo admitted, though there was no remorse in his voice, "But that's no longer a viable option. It's much more satisfying to finish it this way."

Hikari pushed herself upright, massaging her shoulder. She crossed Tatsuo's gaze again, by accident, and he held it in silence. The air was thick, smothering, and she prayed for something to come and end it. The way he looked at her made her uncomfortable – smiles really didn't suit Tatsuo Sawamura.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted the ringing of a phone. Tatsuo frowned and Hikari touched her pocket, checking for her mobile.

"…That's me." She remarked.

"Check it," Tatsuo ordered, "I don't mind."

She did so without hesitation, before the call could end and she missed this stroke of luck. The screen lit her face with a dim glow, her eyes reflecting the name of the caller. It was with a dizzy rush that she read the name, wondering at how small the possibility was of Shizuo Heiwajima choosing that moment, out of any other, to return her calls.

"There's no need for anyone to worry, right?" Tatsuo encouraged, leaning forward, "If I let you answer, you know how it goes?"

Hikari felt her chest tighten, her lungs straining for breath. It was all she could do to nod, and receive in reply a curt command. "So answer."

She pressed the answer button without even knowing it, obeying Tatsuo reflexively. The call connected and Hikari pressed the phone to her ear. She hoped no one noticed how white her knuckles had turned from the tightening of her grip.

"Hello?"

" _Hikari."_

It was a relief to even hear Shizuo's voice. "Yeah?" she asked plainly, afraid of revealing any tremor in her voice.

" _...Your manager was here. He was worried that you didn't turn up for a meeting or something,"_ Shizuo said, " _Where are you?_ "

"You almost sound worried yourself," she replied playfully, knowing that it was inappropriate for a time like this, "Not that you need to be."

As if something in her voice had tipped him off, Shizuo asked again, " _Where?"_

Hikari's eyes met Tatsuo's. At that point, there was only thing she had to lose – the chance to kill him. If that was all, then it only strengthened her resolve. If she was going to go this far for revenge already, she may as well be fully committed until the end. To be anything but would only be disrespectful to the collateral she had left behind on her path to Tatsuo.

"If you're fast enough," Hikari declared at last, "Come to the third warehouse at that abandoned building site on block five, and you might just be able to save my life."

She never could pass up a chance to piss Tatsuo Sawamura off.

She didn't get to hear Shizuo's reply before she had been struck a second time and knocked to the ground. She managed to catch herself before she slammed into the concrete, although her palms stung from the impact of it. A muffled sound echoed from her phone, which clattered to the ground just beyond her fingertips. She presumed it was Shizuo shouting into the receiver on his end, but she never get the chance to find out before Tatsuo's heel had ground the phone to pieces before she could even stretch a hand out to reach it.

"I needed that, you asshole!"

It was the wrong thing to say, as Tatsuo only spun around and landed a kick in her ribs. Hikari grunted, curling into a ball, but the anticipation of further pain never came to fruition.

"You should learn to think about the consequences before deciding to break my rules!" he spat, not even pretending to hide his contempt, "You're as bad as your fucking brother!"

Hikari's laughter rang throughout the emptiness of the warehouse. "Then why don't you just kill me the same way you killed him?!"

She picked herself up, hunched over as her arms did their best to support her through their shaking. Tatsuo knelt before her, his hand grabbing a fistful of her hair and wrenching her head back so that she looked him in the eye. Tears stung her eyes but fell no further.

"You murdered my brother," she said, smiling wretchedly, "You murdered him because he threatened the security of your trafficking operations. Then you framed it as a suicide, and thought that, with all your money and power, you might get away with it. But you don't know what it's like to have someone who loves you, so you overlooked the simple fact that it's not a believable lie – and maybe if you could think with your _head_ instead of your _dick_ , you might have realised I would _never_ believe Ryuji would kill himself if it meant leaving me _alone_!"

His fingers dug into her cheeks, his eyes meeting her unrelenting glare. After a moment of quiet consideration, his face giving nothing away as to his thoughts, he pushed her away roughly and stood tall once more.

"Stalling for time." He dismissed her coolly, but hardly even seemed to believe his own words. He had given up on this game the moment he let her speak freely.

"You should really just kill me now." She remarked.

Tatsuo ignored her, turning to one of the men by his side. "Go get the supplies from the van and get it ready to leave. We'll need to change locations before anyone finds us."

"Yes boss." the man replied, before nodding to another to follow him towards the small door at the rear of the warehouse. Hikari knew that would have to be her way out, seeing as the main entrance was held together with a lock and chain.

She turned to Tatsuo once again, drawling sweetly, "Tatsu-chan-!"

" _Don't call me that."_

Hikari smiled smugly, glad that she was so easily able to get under his skin. "Tatsu-chan," she began again, ignoring his stony scowl, "Why won't you kill me? Did _you_ miss _me?_ "

In a flash, his foot connected with her shoulder and she was forced backwards. Her legs ached, straining as she manoeuvred them out from underneath her, managing it just moments before his weight began to bear down on her. He knelt between her thighs, forcing them apart with his knee as he leant over her. Though his hands connected with the concrete beside her head, he didn't move to touch her yet.

"Lying and fucking were two things you were always good at, I'll give you that." He told her coolly. His blue eyes wore at her nerves, and the longer he stared the more her anxiety began to grow. When he reached down to trace the contours of her lips, he smiled humourlessly. "But I'm not sentimental and you know it. I just need you for information on who told you about the Sawamura's business, not as someone to keep around for when things get boring," Tatsuo explained, so utterly emotionally detached from his words that it was frightening, "After all, there'll always be someone who can fuck me better than you can."

" _Fuck you._ "

Chills sunk into her bones and Hikari was sure it wasn't just because of the cold, hard floor she lay on. She tried to move her legs but found it impossible in her current position, and Tatsuo made sure to pin her arms before she could utilize the only freedom she had left.

Footsteps echoed around the room, announcing the return of his men before they said, "We're all ready, sir." There was a thud as they dropped a roll of duct tape onto the office chair.

"Good," Tatsuo replied, before turning his attention to Hikari once more, "By the way, who were you talking to on the phone before?"

Hikari averted her eyes, staring towards the huge locked doors at the end of the warehouse. "…No one you would know."

His hand moved to her throat, forcing her head upwards. "Would you like to go through this again?" he asked, dangerously calm. His anger was almost at the point of spilling over, and she wondered if his temper might be what finally washed her away from this life.

She grimaced as his hold tightened around her neck, her fingers seeking a way underneath his to pry him away. "I…can't…"

" _Speak up_ , Hikari!"

Her lips opened once more, straining to take a breath. Just as she whispered out the name, there came a knock at warehouse's huge front doors – if it could still be called a knock when the hit proved strong enough to break the lock and chain and bend the metal doors inwards off their hinges.

The dust the billowing up from the force of the swinging doors began to clear as the visitor took a step inside. Their silhouette was striking, and the dim light of a lamp outside the building allowed them to see a tall, blond man tucking his sunglasses away inside his pocket, the other hand loosening the bowtie around his neck.

Tatsuo glanced down and told Hikari, "I didn't think you had any friends."

She only smiled at his mistake. "Shizuo Heiwajima isn't my friend."

* * *

 **Shizuo to the rescue - even though he's still pissed off with her.**

 **Next chapter will jump back in time a little bit (think like, minutes back); I'm praying it won't be too confusing. I like the idea of events happening simultaneously, interacting with one another and connected in small ways. It's very 'Durarara!'.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	19. nineteen

_weak points / NINETEEN_

He grew a little frantic as their phone call ended abruptly. She had been far too calm after what had just happened between them, and he was sure that what he had heard at the end was the sound of someone being struck. It played over and over in his mind and he couldn't help but worry if she was the one being hit, and wonder why the closer he felt he got to her, the greater the enigma she seemed to become.

 _You might just be able to save my life_. Shizuo kind of hated how easy it was for Hikari to dictate his every move.

He felt the attentive stare of Celty, waiting on her bike just beside him. The question was silent, but there nonetheless.

"Block Five," Shizuo grunted, climbing onto the back of her bike, "Third warehouse. Seems like Hikari's in some kind of trouble."

Celty passed him a spare helmet over her shoulder, which Shizuo only accepted with the knowledge that being pulled over by the cops would only mean trouble for all parties involved. He was still fitting it on when Celty took off down the street, her bike pulling out with a strange sound that was more like a horse's whiny than the roar of a motor. Shizuo didn't question it, only held on tightly to the bike so that he wasn't lost in the speed with which she drove.

His grip grew even tighter at the thought of what might be waiting for him. The worst case scenario would be a dead Hikari; the thought of which shook him to his core. No matter what had happened between them, he knew there was always going to be a part of him that would incessantly and persistently care for her, no matter how annoying he felt his feelings to be. He didn't want to see her dead. What he really wanted was to fix things between them so that he could go back to fucking her and making her laugh at his awkward mistakes.

The night was cold, and brought with it a wind that chilled Shizuo to the bone. His legs grew numb at the cool air racing over them, but Celty slowed for nothing. She shot around corners and raced through streetlights and intersections, apparently as worried for Hikari as he was. It was a good thing the streets were beginning to empty by this time at night.

It wasn't that far to the place Hikari had told them to go, especially not at their speed. Shizuo anticipated the view of the tall, wire fences that surrounded the empty lot. From memory, he knew the place was only ever used by small gangs and groups of delinquents who had long since broken the chains around the front gate.

As the place loomed out of the darkness ahead of them, lit by a few sparse lamps, Celty didn't ease off her speed. She headed straight forward, shooting down the road and through the open gates that led her into the long rows of large, dilapidated warehouses. Though the way from his apartment to where they were now couldn't have been more than five minutes, it felt like an eternity, where every single second promised Shizuo that he would be finding Hikari in an increasingly worsening state.

Celty slammed the breaks on hard, shooting past the first two warehouses and skipping around to a stop just after the third. No sooner had the bike stopped moving than Shizuo was jumping off. She caught him by the wrist before he could make it further than a single step.

" _Wait. Check through the window first,"_ She cautioned, " _You can't just go barging in without knowing what to expect."_

The black rider climbed off after him, accepting the helmet he tore off and threw back to her casually. She crept around him, glancing up at the stationary Shizuo to catch a glimpse of his expression. The fury in his eyes was almost enough to freeze her to the spot.

Shizuo nodded to her wordlessly, indicating that she should move forward. Celty stepped forward as quietly as possible, keeping her head low as she approached the large, dirty glass window. Light poured out from inside as she stealthily peeked her helmet above the bottom of the rotting frame.

The first thing that Celty noticed were the number of men standing around the room, all in suits and wearing hardened expressions. They possessed the immovability of old gang members or yakuza. The second thing she noticed, as she scoured the scene for the woman they were looking for, was Hikari pushed to the floor as a man she didn't recognise pinned her there. Far from wondering why Hikari was even there in the first place, Celty decided her first priority would be to get her out.

She turned to her phone to furiously begin typing out her thoughts for Shizuo, but made it half way before the groaning of strained metal filled the silent night. Celty turned quickly, almost falling over in her haste, as she realised that Shizuo had only waited for her reach the window before deciding to charge on in on his own.

With a colossal crash, the huge doors to the warehouse bent under the force of his kick and fell forward, snapping clean of their hinges by the force of Shizuo's kick. There was no build up, just sheer strength and brutality in his actions; an anger that dared anyone to cross his path just so that he could indulge in the pleasure of making them pay.

Celty, had she had a mouth, would only have groaned in exasperation. Shizuo was as impatient as ever, so it could hardly be considered a surprise that this would happen.

The first thing Shizuo noticed were the fingers curling around Hikari's neck, forcing her head back as she struggled to breathe and mumbled words too low to hear. From across the room, he was met with the cool glare of her attacker's icy, blue eyes.

Shizuo could almost tangibly feel his temper snapping.

"Kill him." The man ordered.

It was then that Shizuo finally noticed the number of men standing around the room, slowly inching closer. He had been too fixated on Hikari, and on the vague familiarity of the man choking her, to even notice the danger circling around him. Even taking him by surprise, Shizuo was easily able to dodge the first punch thrown his way.

" _Shizuo!"_ Hikari calling out his name was almost enough to stop him in his tracks, and he glanced over at her only to find she was looking right at him. She had loosened the man's grip just enough to cry out, " _Behind you!"_

Shizuo went to turn, ready for an attack, but froze as the man behind him was immobilized by a black string of shadows. Celty, by the doorway, nodded to Shizuo as her shadows pulled on the man's hand, knocking the knife from his grip.

Hikari was surprised to see Celty there as well, although her appearance explained why Shizuo had made it there so quickly. She only had a moment to take it all in – six men attacking Shizuo and one moving aside to deal with Celty – before Tatsuo's grip called for her attention.

"What kind of monsters are they?" He muttered, scowling down at her.

She clawed at his fingers, constricting around her neck. "…The only monster I see," she rasped out, smiling vaguely, "Is _you_."

His fingers left her throat and she gasped for air the moment she was free of his grip. She only had a moment to catch her breath before his hand took a fistful of her hair and she found herself being pulled onto her feet. His hand covered her mouth the moment she went to say something, and she found herself dragged firmly against his chest.

The cool barrel of his gun pressed against her cheek, dissuaded Hikari from trying to attack him just yet.

"You two!" Tatsuo called out, his voice ringing loudly in her ear, "Stop right there if you want her to live!"

Shizuo froze, still as stone, the moment his eyes crossed hers. Celty followed his lead a second later. Hikari could think of nothing that she could do to assure them it would be fine, to explain the situation, or even just to apologise for dragging them into it. She decided that, at least, she would have to thank the both of them when all of this was over.

"Hikari! _Damn it_." Shizuo muttered, his eyes narrowing. It was obvious that standing there, unable to act, was as frustrating for him as it was for her.

She glanced sideways, her eyes narrowing as she caught a glimpse of the gun in her peripheral. Tatsuo's body language was unrelenting, but she was close enough to see his weakness. That his finger didn't rest on the trigger meant he didn't intend to kill her just yet.

If Tatsuo wanted to make such stupid mistakes as that, then Hikari intended to use them to her advantage. Her resolve had been unwavering from the moment Izaya Orihara had told her his name.

Her teeth bit into the fingers pressed over her mouth, and she made sure that it was hard enough to draw blood. Tatsuo wrenched his hand away from her, cursing loudly, " _Fuck!"_

She stumbled a few steps back, unsteady in her heeled boots, until the distance between them was enough that he could finally see her face.

She wiped a hand across her mouth, smearing the blood up her cheek, and her eyes burned with more than just hatred. He knew the look on her face from all the time she'd spent wrapped up in his sheets at night, but Tatsuo had had no idea just how murderous her desire could be – Hikari had the look of a wild, wounded animal.

"To be fair, I did warn you that you should've killed me earlier, Tatsuo." She pointed out.

"You _fucking_ _bitch_."

They stepped forward at the same time, and that movement became the signal that had Tatsuo throwing the first punch in her direction. Hikari spun on her toes, missing the hit by inches, and found herself thrown against Tatsuo's chest as their momentum brought them together. She didn't think, only acted reflexively as she elbowed him low in the gut and was met with a satisfying grunt of pain.

Shizuo took a step forward, intending to help in the most violent way possible, but found his path blocked by two men drawing a knife from their pockets. He smiled humourlessly, cracking his knuckles one at a time. "Fine," he decided, "But I'm not holding back."

The first man dove forward, knife extended, but Shizuo dodged. As the man stumbled forward Shizuo grabbed his arm, needing only to use a little effort for his next hit to send the guy tumbling backwards across the warehouse. The wood of one of the leftover crates cracked upon impact.

Shizuo spared a glance for Hikari, watching as she aimed a kick at the Tatsuo's head. Absently, he remembered the times she'd made a mention of knowing self-defence. He hoped that she was good enough to help herself for as long as he and Celty remained preoccupied.

Her leg met Tatsuo's block, the force of her kick only enough to knock him a step backwards. Tatsuo tilted his head, frowning at her. "Do you really think you can beat me, Hikari? I'm the one who taught you everything you know. I _made_ you what you are!" he declared, "You've already _lost_!"

She scowled, her breathing grow more and more ragged. "Fuck that, and _fuck you_!"

Hikari dodged the punch he threw at her face, stepping back to avoid the forceful kick that followed. She already knew she wasn't strong enough to stand up against his power, although that had never meant she was willing to give in.

"You're a coward, Tatsu-chan!" she cried mockingly, "Did you even have the guts to kill Ryuji yourself, or did you just pay someone to do it for you?"

His grin was manic, close to laughter as he remembered the gun in his hand and moved to point the barrel of it towards her. They stood still, at a stalemate for as long as it took Tatsuo to say, "Actually, I intend on using this same gun to kill the both of you."

She lunged at him. Her wild animosity was so unpredictable that it caught even Tatsuo off guard and he was reminded of his earlier feelings, the uncomfortableness of being faced with a woman who he couldn't control. She hit him shoulder first, knocking the two of them to the ground in a flail of limbs and scrambling of movement, but Hikari heard nothing over the pounding of her heart and saw nothing but the gun that had been thrown a few feet away.

Her fist swung hard, hitting Tatsuo square in the face. His bones crunched under the force and she felt the warmth of his blood spurt over her knuckles. She didn't take the time to process how good it felt to finally punch him, instead scrambling off him and reaching for the gun. When her fingers pressed against its cool metal of the grip, a wave of relief swept through her.

Tatsuo staggered to his feet, one hand trying to stop the blood pouring from his nose, while she struggled to find her footing. His vision blurred for a moment, and he could see nothing but Shizuo Heiwajima throwing two of his men across the room with only his bare hands, while the helmet-wearing person accompanying him slammed another two together with the use of something less human than he had ever known.

Ahead, Tatsuo could recognise only the vague outline of Hikari Shibata, and the full weight of all his mistakes came crashing down the moment he met her gaze.

Hikari smiled, and the shot than rang out was swallowed by the vast, yawning silence.

" _Hikari!"_

Shizuo spun wildly, his heart skipping a beat as he expected to find her lying on the ground, only to falter at the last minute. He recognised the face now that he had a moment longer to study it. The one kneeling on the ground was not Hikari, but Tatsuo Sawamura.

Hikari pulled the trigger on the semi-automatic once more, and a second shot echoed through the air. Tatsuo's other leg buckled as the bullet tore through his calf and she refused to look away as he at last fell to his knees before her.

She glanced sideways at the collateral damage left behind by Shizuo and Celty. "You dealt with that pretty quickly." She remarked casually, noting that all seven men were scattered like trash around the room.

"Hikari, I think you'd better explain-!"

Shizuo went to take a step forward, wearing his familiar scowl, but she held up a hand to stop him. Celty drew level with him quickly, but also stopped just in line with him.

" _Wait_." Hikari ordered firmly.

She turned back to Tatsuo, eyeing him warily. His chin dripped with blood from his broken nose, and a pool had already formed around his legs. "Ha!" She remarked pleasantly, "I kinda like this look on you."

Tatsuo spat the blood from his mouth, grimacing. "Is this the part where you kill me?"

"You _are_ the one who killed my brother, Tatsuo. He was the only family I had left and the only person who ever actually _cared_ about me – so what the fuck do you think?"

He swayed, did his best to remain upright. Tatsuo hated to bow before anyone, least of all to Hikari Shibata. "I think, Hikari-" he answered simply, "I think that you've got to accept some of the blame here…after all, it was your fault Ryuji got involved in all of this in the first place."

"Hikari-!" Shizuo began again, growing impatient.

She sent him a chilling look, devoid of any of the warmth he expected from her, and he found himself unable to move. It was a strange predicament, but Shizuo decided it was better just to wait until she had finished.

"Tatsuo," she replied, "I really don't want to hear that from you."

The gun hanging by her side moved as she raised her hand and pressed the muzzle to Tatsuo's forehead. Her finger hooked around the trigger and she handled the weapon equably. He didn't so much as blink, his stare wearing into her with the same intensity that was so typical of him. She almost felt as if he were daring her to do it.

Hikari rolled her shoulders, stretching her neck as she finally smiled satisfactorily. "I've waited months for this moment, Tatsuo," she breathed happily, her eyes lowered to meet his; "You can't say you don't deserve it."

She pulled the trigger and the sound of Tatsuo's last breath made the shot that rang out sound like a whisper.

She watched him fall back against the cool concrete floor and she didn't flinch as the pool of blood inches towards her shoes. She waited for Tatsuo to move only to find he wouldn't, not even to close his eyes. It was that fact that finally drove it home to her – that he wouldn't close his eyes ever again, and he would keep staring out at the world around him as if he were alive, waiting for that final conclusive moment in a life cut short.

It was strange to watch someone die and it was stranger still to know that she was the one who killed him. Tatsuo was gone so quietly and so quickly – Hikari was sure that such an end must have been really dissatisfying to him.

She heard Shizuo call her name, sounding like he stood a great distance away. " _Hikari."_

Her knees buckled at last. As she fell to the ground, Hikari was last able to release her long-held breath, to revel in the cool air the pressed against her cheeks. In some ways, she had been relieved of a burden. But there remained a heaviness in her heart that refused to leave her. She knew what it was now, that feeling she had been trying to satisfy after months. Killing Tatsuo didn't bring Ryuji back – but she supposed she had known that from the start, no matter how unwilling she was to admit it.

Shizuo began to walk towards her, only to freeze at the sudden ringing of a phone.

Beside him, Celty fumbled to answer her incoming call, almost dropping it in her panic. It seemed it caught her off guard as well, though it was always hard to tell with her. Shizuo wasn't even sure how she could hear the call connect through her helmet.

He watched her curiously, her shoulders tensing, before Celty nodded in response to the unknown caller. She approached Hikari first, kneeling so that they were at the same level.

Hikari stared at the phone held out towards her, and didn't take it until Celty pushed it into her hand. "…Oh," she muttered, holding the phone to her ear, "Hello?"

Shizuo studied her expression as best he could, but her thoughts were unreadable behind her blank stare. He wasn't really sure what to think himself.

He started at her next words. "…What do you want, Orihara?"

" _I'm just calling to see how it all played out."_

Shizuo couldn't hear his words, but he wanted to kill Izaya all the same. He hated the thought of that fleabag speaking to Hikari in any way, shape or form.

"What do you mean?" Hikari asked, frowning. She would rather not speak to him, exhausted as she was beginning to feel, but Izaya was persistent.

" _I called your phone but you didn't answer."_ He explained.

"Tatsuo broke it."

 _"I figured, when I saw Celty and Shizu-chan racing through Ikebukuro, that you might have been in some kind of trouble."_

"You know, I think that's bullshit," Hikari replied coolly, "You have no reason not to have sold me out to the Sawamuras, especially when they can pay so well."

Izaya's laughter echoed through the phone, crackling against her ear. " _I suppose the fact that I'm talking to you means Tatsuo Sawamura is dead?"_

"Yeah."

 _"How does it feel?"_

"I don't know."

 _"You're not happy with your revenge?"_ Izaya mused, sounding as though he was grinning his Cheshire cat grin, " _I thought that might happen, you know. After all, is Tatsuo Sawamura really the one to blame here?"_

Hikari's knuckles grew white as her fingers constricted. She felt bile rise in her throat, but she swallowed it back down. She found it much easier to look at Tatsuo than at anyone else in the room.

" _I know quite a bit about you, Hikari. I know that when you dated Sawamura, you made mistakes, and those mistakes cost you. He paid for the damage but forget to mention you'd be the one in his debt for it."_

"That's not…"

 _"And then your dear brother found out about your situation,"_ Izaya continued heedlessly, " _He took your place, agreed to work off that debt for you. That's how he ended up working for Tatsuo Sawamura, and that's why he stuck with them for so many years. He even cut ties with you to try and keep you safe – isn't it marvellous how much humans will do for the ones they love?"_

"It's not my fault!"

" _My, my. You sound like you're crying, Hikari-!"_

The delight in his voice numbed her to the rest of his words, and the phone slipped through her fingers, clattering onto the ground. She wasn't sure if he was right and the wetness on her cheeks were tears and not blood as she supposed, but she also didn't possess the strength of will to stop herself any longer if she was crying. After everything that she had gone through, it was more a reasonable reaction than a shameful one.

Celty recovered her phone from the floor, ending the call for her. " _We should go,"_ She told Shizuo, " _I'll get the bike ready."_

He nodded jerkily, still wondering how he was going to convince Hikari to leave. It wasn't until Celty's footsteps began to echo away from them that he even found the courage needed to kneel and look at her. Hikari's eyes were glued to the dead man lying across from her.

Her fingers began to inch closer to the body, stretching out towards him, but Shizuo caught her hand before she could make it that far. She was cold to touch and her breathing was still heavy from the phone call with Izaya.

"Don't," Shizuo said, "We need to get out of here."

At last, Hikari found herself able to meet his eyes. She wasn't sure what he saw there – perhaps just the endless, numbing cold that she felt herself – as all Shizuo did was sigh and mutter quietly, " _Fuck."_

His arms wound around her, one under her shoulders and the other under her knees, and she was pulled against his chest as he stood. She hugged her arms to her chest, not uttering a word of complaint or compliance. Shizuo didn't mind, finding that it was enough that all she did was turn her head towards him and curl her fingers into fists against his uniform.

He wasn't sure if she were crying or not, but he knew there was one thing she was definitely not doing. Shizuo found himself glancing back as he walked away, catching a sight of the dead, blue eyes staring up at an empty world, and he decided that he hated Tatsuo Sawamura too; even if only for taking Hikari's smile away.

* * *

 **Izaya is shit. Love him anyway.**

 **Not long to go before this story is finished - hopefully I can get my laptop working soon because I still haven't written the last chapter lol.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	20. twenty

_weak points / TWENTY_

By the time they made it back to their apartment complex, Shizuo felt as though his fingers had frozen around her arms and knew that he didn't particularly mind if it meant holding onto Hikari for just a little bit longer.

Riding the bike with three people was a little awkward to manage, even with one of Celty's passengers being cradled by the other. She ended up using her shadows to create a sort of ribbon of support that kept them from falling off the back. Neither Shizuo nor Hikari commented on it, for which she was glad; not even after she had pulled to a stop in the spare park outside their building.

Shizuo stepped off first, and a flick of her wrist had the shadow-made helmets he and Hikari wore dissipating into the night. She waited a moment, unsure what to say.

It was Hikari who broke the still, unsettling silence between them, wriggling around until Shizuo finally let her stand on her own. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her nose a little red, and other than the blood that remained stained on her skin, she looked remarkably normal.

Hikari bowed her head low, catching them all off guard. "Thank you, Celty."

The rider's shoulders jerked in surprise, fumbling with her phone as she typed a hasty answer. " _It's not really a big deal!"_

"Yes it is," Hikari insisted, "I caused you a lot of trouble and put you in danger. I'm not quite sure what I can do to make it up to you, but if you would like me to explain the full situation, you only need to drop by my apartment any time."

"I _t's really right!"_ Celty exclaimed, " _I chose to help you. That's what friends do."_

That was the second time that night Celty had called them friends, and once again, Hikari wasn't sure what to say. The best she could offer was a vague smile. "Well, next time we see each other, I hope that it's not because I dragged you into something that could get you killed."

" _Or the other way around."_ Celty replied before tucking her phone into her sleeve.

Just as she prepared to drive away, apparently satisfied with such a conclusion, Hikari called out again, "Thank you!"

The black rider only nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. Evasive and inconclusive as it was, Hikari felt a simple warmth spread through her and she found herself grounded once more. Ikebukuro was no longer as abstract as she thought, but a place where she had friends and a home. Here was a place where Tatsuo's death, someone who had been so prevalent in her life for many years, could mean absolutely nothing to anyone.

Celty's bike cut through the traffic in a moment, and she had all at once resumed the normal order of her life as she took off around the corner and disappeared into darker streets.

Hikari didn't move from the spot, not until another's fingers wrapped around hers and she found herself pulled along after them. As he led her inside the building, she found herself staring at his back, at the width of his shoulders that seemed so tense and had her wanting to take it all back. She wasn't sure what to expect from Shizuo in a situation like this.

They made it all the way up the first flight of stairs in silence, before Hikari hesitantly said, "…I'm not a child, you know. You don't need to keep holding my hand."

Shizuo's grip remained the same and his steps were just as even as before. "I don't feel like letting go."

It was strange how hot her face felt from just that simple admission. "Oh." Hikari mumbled.

Neither of them said anything more for the rest of the way. Even when they reached their hall and their apartments drew closer, she could think of nothing to say that could ease any of the awkwardness away. Shizuo was left having to break the terse the silence, ordering shortly, "Come with me."

Hikari didn't think she had much a choice, seeing as how he was still holding her hand and refusing to let her go. Shizuo was a little rough in unlocking his door, which had more to do with his simmering irritation more than anything else. He couldn't settle down until he had the moment he needed to ask the questions nagging at his conscience.

"I broke your lock again, as well," Shizuo added, pushing his apartment door open, "Sorry."

"It's fine." She didn't really care, either way. Tonight had drained her.

His shoulders moved in a shrug, leading the way inside. Hikari shut the door after her, pacing her steps as she followed Shizuo up the hall, he flicking the lights on as they went. They stopped just inside the lounge, and Hikari, standing just a little way away from him, glanced around his apartment. It was surprisingly neat, but expectantly bare of much else but the usual necessities.

"Hikari."

She glanced across at him and found him staring. She wiped her hands on her jeans, suddenly worried by the idea that they were still stained with blood.

"Yeah?" she asked, a little softer than she meant to.

She stood, as if on the tip of toes, waiting for him to push her over the edge. She expected him to be angry, to demand an explanation or an apology for everything she had put him through up until now. Hikari wasn't sure if she could give him any of those things as adequate recompense for all his trouble.

As she stood, expecting harsh words, Shizuo sighed at the look on her face and asked, "How's your arm?"

"Huh?"

"The…" He hesitated to say it, nodding to her, "From earlier – did it bruise?"

She was surprised to find him still thinking of it. Hikari certainly felt that it was of no concern in the larger scale of things, though she didn't mind that he was still worried about how tightly he had held onto her during their earlier argument.

Not sure herself, Hikari shrugged her coat off and dropped it over the back of his couch. The silence was almost unsettling, full of anticipation, as she undid the first few buttons on her blouse and let the sleeve fall from her shoulder to her elbow. Inspecting it, she found her shoulder was purpling from where Tatsuo had shoved her around, and the skin just lower was marked with rings of an off-colour pink that was sure to bruise in the outline of Shizuo's hand.

Shizuo took a step forward and faltered as he found his hand stretching out towards her. At the last moment, he let his arm fall away and his fingers curl into a fist at his side.

" _Damn it_ ," Shizuo muttered to himself, "Why do I always end up hurting the people I love?"

Hikari could barely think through the haze that filled her, the word that stripped her of reason – _love._

"…Shizuo-"

As she stepped forward, he turned to his side and averted his gaze. Hikari didn't back away, her fingers tugging on his sleeve as her forehead fell against his shoulder. Too concerned with the idea of accidently hurting her again, Shizuo refused to move.

Hikari swallowed the ball of emotions in her throat, fighting away her tears. "Shizuo, I can give you two reasons why that is hardly something to be upset about," she told him gently, "The first is that the only thing that could really hurt me would be if you left me. The second would be that I've already hurt you anyway, so I deserve this much at least."

His shoulder jerked, and Hikari pulled away as he turned to face her at last. His gaze scorched her skin, heated as it was, and she struggled to keep from blushing, knowing it would be inappropriate considering the situation their relationship - if they had one - was in. Though Shizuo might have said yes, for her to admit there was anything between them but that one night was the same as admitting that she had been wrong to say some of things that she did to him. Excuses embarrassed her.

"I can't leave you," Shizuo confessed at last, "And I don't want you to leave me either."

"You shouldn't say that until after I've given you all the reasons to hate me."

His fingers grazed her cheeks, drawing the two of them a step closer together. "Too late to take it back now." Shizuo declared shortly. His fingertips slid over the curve of her cheeks, a little rough, but she didn't mind. Though a kiss seemed to be what was coming, Shizuo stopped at the last moment and said, "You've still got blood on your face."

She frowned. "I suppose that isn't very attractive."

She wiped a hand across her face, seeing that her sleeve came away marked with the faint stains of blood. She scrubbed a little harder, feeling the dry blood flake away. Shizuo sat down on his couch, stretching his legs out before him, but she remained standing.

"I should explain," Hikari realised, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her exhaustion, "If you're ready?"

"Yeah."

She nodded, looking away from his unreadable stare. "Good. Fine – well…where to start?" she muttered, "…I suppose with Ryuji."

How could a dead man spark events months after his death? "What does he have to do with any of this?" Shizuo wondered.

"I suppose you heard that his death was a suicide, yeah?"

He frowned, thinking of all the things he'd heard Hikari say inside that warehouse. "…Yeah."

She hugged her arms around herself, stepping towards the window that looked out over Ikebukuro. "That's not the truth," she told him, and he had to stop and process her words for her monotony would have had him thinking she was talking about the weather, "Tatsuo murdered him."

She glanced back at the click of a lighter, finding Shizuo lighting a cigarette. "Oh." He said, breathing out smoke.

"I thought it was a suicide too. That's what the autopsy said it was, and I believed it even though it was a fake. I had to come here – to Ikebukuro – to go through his things and start the funeral preparations, and I was going through his old stuff when I found the letter he left me. Ryu started off apologising to me for how we hadn't spoken in years, but then started mentioning that he'd found out some things – which I found out later was the Sawamuras' involvement in some sex trafficking operations – that could put him at risk. He wanted me to know in case something happened to him, so that I knew he hadn't just left me alone by choice." Her expression softened as she winced, murmuring, "…But I guess, Ryu didn't get to send the letter, in the end."

"…And Tatsuo's connection to Shibata?"

"Right – ah, I suppose it helps if you know that that's who Ryuji worked for. Tatsuo is the grandson of the head of the Sawamura conglomerate. It's not publicised because of Tatsuo's reputation as a trouble maker and his history of involvement with gangs and the yakuza, but he still has – _had_ – a lot of money and power."

Shizuo rolled the cigarette between his fingers, considering all of this with surprising calm. He had never so earnestly wanted to understand someone before the way he did with her. "So it was revenge," he concluded, "You killed him for revenge. And that's why you moved here."

"It's more than just that – you don't understand-!" Hikari cut herself off, biting her lip. She pressed one hand to her chest, as if trying to calm her breathing, before tearing herself away from Shizuo and looking back out into the city. Ikebukuro was oddly calm tonight. "…Tatsuo tore apart my whole life. From the moment I met him, he was nothing but bad. Our relationship was shit, and it probably did neither of us any good. I…made mistakes – and Ryu was the one who paid for them."

She was torn between wanting Shizuo to see her has a good person, and knowing that it was the one thing she never had been.

Izaya's voice came to mind. _Isn't it marvellous how much humans will do for the ones they love?_

Her fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm as if the pain would distract her from her tears. "I guess, considering that," she said, sounding odd even to herself, "It really is my all my fault."

The silence made the whisper of Shizuo's breath seem so much louder than it was. It echoed in her ears, just his clothes rustled and his footsteps were as heavy as heartbeats as he approached her from behind. Hikari pulled her arms closer, her head bent as she fought not to flinch at the moment his hands wound around her waist.

Her back pressed up against his chest, his hands coaxing warmth back into her body as his fingers curled around her hips. Hikari didn't move as his chin came to rest on her head, praying that he wouldn't see her tears in the reflection of the window. She hated for people to see her cry.

"This is why I told you to stay away from that damn flea," Shizuo muttered furiously, "I don't know what he said to you on the phone, but I know you shouldn't believe a fucking word of anything he says."

" _Shizuo-"_ She slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her sob.

His arms tightened around her. " _Okay_?"

Hikari nodded stiffly, meekly. "…Okay."

At last, she felt she could turn and face him. Hikari found it easy to slip her arms around his waist in turning, pulling him closer before he could say anything more. Everything that he had said had offered her so much more than she had ever given him, and there was absolutely nothing she could do repay him for it, so she ended up just burying her head in his chest and waiting for the last few tears to dry on her cheeks.

One of his hands remained around her waist, pushing up against her back, while the other lifted the cigarette to his lips. She loved that smell; it was the promise of a welcoming smile and a warm hug. It was her brother after a long night at work, the two of them sitting alone on the steps of a Shinto shrine on New Year's Eve. And it was also beginning to become a walk through Ikebukuro at midnight, Shizuo's skin lit by the neon lights of the entertainment district.

It would have been peaceful, if Hikari hadn't been preoccupied with one last worry. "Shizuo," she began, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye, "I'm sorry about earlier today. With Orihara."

He scowled, but it was no fiercer than usual. "Tell me the reason why you had to."

"Had to?" Hikari wondered, "Why…?"

"If you don't have a reason, make something up. I'm sure you can lie just one more time." Shizuo muttered, though there was no vehemence in his tone. He only wanted an excuse that made the strength of his feelings for her logical.

Hikari smiled half-heartedly. "Sorry, but I've already decided to tell the truth from here on," she declared, "And that would be that I needed Orihara for information. He was the one who found out Tatsuo was responsible, and that kiss was the price of that information. I suppose he orchestrated it so you would turn up at that moment, but I'm not sure that it really matters. I couldn't really regret anything because at that point, I was in so deep that I'd already decided there wasn't anything I wouldn't pay to see Tatsuo dead."

He lifted her chin with his fingers, his thumb brushing along the curve of her bottom lip. "Okay." Shizuo said simply, accepting her word for it, and in the next moment he had leant down and kissed her.

He tasted of nicotine and she tasted of blood. Though it lasted only a moment, it was enough for Hikari to realise that the more they kissed the less she wanted to stop kissing – he was addictive, even more so than any of the drugs she had ever tried before him.

Shizuo pulled away first, turning his back to her. She stared as he walked back towards the couch, stopping at the table to leave his cigarette in the cheap ashtray sitting there.

"Shizuo," Hikari mumbled, looking down, "Aren't you angry with me?"

"Yeah – but not for the reasons you think." He fell back onto the couch, a hand massaging the legs he stretched out before him. He didn't look at her as he continued on to say, "I can't hate you for what you did when you only did it because you loved your brother," maybe a little too much, he thought but didn't say, "It just pisses me off that you tried to do it all on your own."

"It was my problem." She reasoned.

"Ryuji was my friend, too. I would've helped," Shizuo argued, leaning forward, "You know that you're a pain in the ass, right? I've never had someone make me this…"

Hikari took a few steps forward. "Make you what?"

Shizuo averted his gaze. "…Worried."

He was admitting that he had thought he might not ever see her again – and it was the _again_ that scared him. He wanted there to be a next time, but the reality was that Hikari had come crashing into his life and she could leave it just as quickly, before she even had time to settle or before he could get a good enough grip to ground her there.

As soon as he thought of wanting her next to him, Shizuo felt her fingers pull on his hands. The couch bent under her weight as she knelt beside him, her fingers sneaking around his and gripping him tightly. She loved watching him blush.

"You should hate me," she muttered, "I'm not a good person, you know. I don't regret what I did – killing Tatsuo."

Shizuo glanced across at her, their eyes meeting. "…Neither do I." he admitted.

His attention flickered away, towards the cigarette still burning in the ashtray. Her hands grew warm against his at last, easing his concerns about how cold she must be. Her shirt looked too thin to be of any use, and he could see that she wore only a black lace bra underneath. Shizuo bit his lip, dragging his thoughts out of the gutter.

"…So, what do you want to do, Shizuo?" she asked, so quietly and timidly it was hard for him to imagine it came from the Hikari he knew, "About us?"

Her voice whispered in his ear, and he could almost feel her words against his throat. Shizuo thought of how tightly she held his hands and of how obvious of an answer it was. Everything that had happened between them, even in the course of a day, had only made it clearer.

His head fell back against the couch, one hand freed to lie across his face and hide his red cheeks from sight. "I want you," he said, watching her carefully in his peripheral vision, "For a while, all I've wanted is to be the only person allowed to touch you and kiss you and fuck you. I want you to let me have that."

Was he asking her out again? "Okay."

"…That's it?" Shizuo frowned, his hand falling away to fix her with a glare, " _Okay?"_

Hikari shrugged lightly, kneeling so that she was taller than him. Before she gave him any further answer, she made sure to kiss him. Her fingers ran through his hair, her palms pressed to his cheeks as she kissed him for as long as she dared, knowing that he was probably still pissed off with her. Just when Hikari went to pull away, Shizuo pulled her back down and deepened the kiss to something wilder, stronger, where emotion was a sea in turmoil.

They broke away at the same time, driven by a need to breathe and the small doubt that they were asking too much of the other.

"I want the same thing from you." Hikari told him honestly, a smile toying at the edges of her lips.

"…Okay." He said, echoing her dumbly, uncertain if he was thinking straight any longer.

She settled down beside him, her thigh pressing up against his as she curled into the space he made for her. Hikari's fingers curled around the cuff of his sleeve, pulling his arm around her waist, though it was of his own volition that he found his thumb brushing over her bruised knuckles. He was happy to have her there; even blood-stained, even bruised and battered.

"Just so you know," Shizuo muttered, "I'm not going to let you out of my sight for a while after all this."

Now there were just two things he didn't know about Hikari Shibata; the first of which was that there was a tremor in his voice and in his hands which seemed to shake her entire solar system. The second was that, given that he was thick-skinned in all matters of emotional delicacy, he could never even begin to guess just how much she loved him.

* * *

 **Give me like a week or two (or three lol) to finish up and post that last chapter - I'm very lazy and I've been sitting on it for months.**

 **Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!**


	21. twenty one

**Happy New Years [Eve]! Enjoy the final chapter~**

* * *

 _weak points / TWENTY ONE_

His palm was a little sweaty as he held hers, even as Hikari found herself shivering at the cool wind rustling evergreens and the empty branches of cherry blossom trees. Pink petals blanketed the ground, settling over flowers already laid before the rows and rows of stone. The sky burned, as rosy as the fallen flowers and his flushed cheeks.

It was, she supposed, not a bad place to be buried.

"Which one is it?"

Hikari tightened her grip without meaning, stepping close enough that their shoulders bumped together. "A bit further up," she said, looking alone the rows of graves, "…I haven't been here since the funeral."

"You'll be fine."

"With you here, definitely," she agreed, smiling, "Thanks, Shizuo."

He stiffened, shoulders tensing. He could tell now that she was being genuine, so well-versed in her lies that her honesty was immediately obvious. Hikari wasn't looking at him, for which he was glad. He could only hope the breeze cooled his warm cheeks before she noticed.

They were silent as they passed the headstones. Shizuo read the names, and Hikari followed her memories of the last visit here to the foot of one particular grave. Flowers sat beside the stone slab marking the grave. Purples, whites and yellows; all like still, soft fireworks. Hikari didn't bring flowers because, if Ryuji Shibata had been alive, he would have teased her for it.

Their fingers slipped from one another, and Hikari knelt over the grave. When she had come last time, she had left a mound of dirt behind – yet now, grass grew over the body of her brother. Her fingers traced the engraving that spelled out his name, and she felt herself whispering it back to the tombstone.

"Hikari?"

She pushed herself to her feet, straightening her skirt out. "It's weird." She remarked suddenly, stepping back to Shizuo's side.

He glanced down at her through his sunglasses. "Huh? How so?"

"I mean, to let go…I spent months just…" Hikari grimaced, found it impossible to look him in the eye as she admitted, "Revenge was all I had after Ryuji died."

Shifting his weight and shuffling his feet, Shizuo deliberated on whether or not to bring it up. It was only because she did a poor job of hiding her trembling hands that he did. "I remember you saying something to Tatsuo, about how Shibata was the only one that cared about you…"

Her green eyes pinned him down and he felt like he was lost in a forest so deep and dark.

"…That's not true. Not anymore, at least," He concluded quietly, a little awkward, "So, ah…"

"Just spit it out."

"Until you can find a reason to live for yourself, you can, ah, use me as an excuse."

Hikari laughed at his seriousness, understanding what he was saying and finding that no other reaction seemed appropriate. "Don't worry so much, Shizuo," she told him firmly, eyes shining, "Ryuji went to a lot of trouble to make sure I could have a fulfilling life. I'm not wasting this chance."

When she said those last words, she didn't look at him. That was a confession, a resolution, a promise to her brother and the best she could do was look at the name on his grave as she said it. It was a strange feeling – like a knot in her stomach, in her throat, or perhaps just in reality itself – to realise pinky promises were now out of the question when it came to her and Ryuji.

She heard the snick of the lighter before she smelled the smoke. Glancing across, she saw Shizuo lifting a cigarette to his lips and her lungs filled with second-hand smoke. It had been months since Shizuo last shared a smoke with Ryuji, and years since Hikari ever had.

They were silent for a moment, each with their own thoughts – Shizuo thinking that he hated cemeteries, Hikari thinking that she had never missed smoking as much as she did right now. She would be leaving the profound thoughts on the obscurities of death to someone else for the time being, at least until she could conceive of an idea that went any further than _fuck this._

Shizuo's head jerked upwards suddenly. "Shoko Setsuya," he glanced towards Hikari, "Why is that your ringtone?"

She pulled her ringing phone from her pocket and didn't look at him as she replied dryly, "Why do you know who that is in the first place?" Popular female idols? Shizuo hardly seemed the type. "Is it 'cause she's got big tits?"

"Tom has it as his ringtone as well."

Hikari laughed shortly as she let the call – from Ishikawa, as was expected – go to voicemail, and though Shizuo was still breathing in nicotine breaths, he felt as if the air had never been fresher. "So, does that mean that someone like that isn't or is your type?" With her free hand, she cupped an imaginary breast twice the size of hers.

Shizuo knew she was teasing him, and thought it would be funny to see that cool façade break when he replied, "Don't be stupid. Your tits are obviously my favourite." What he had forgotten was that, upon looking at Hikari's blushing cheeks, his face would always immediately turn red as well.

Glancing at Ryuji's headstone, Shizuo muttered, "I'm not sure if we should be talking about this here."

"It _is_ inappropriate, isn't it?" Though she was the one to say so, Hikari laughed as though it wasn't a concern of hers, "Come on, let's go."

"Hm? You don't wanna stay longer?"

She shrugged lightly. "Not like we can't come back. Besides, we gotta catch that train back into the city."

"If you say so."

"You…you didn't want to stay longer, did you?"

"Sentimentality isn't really my thing." Shizuo answered shortly, his cigarette burning down to its last breath.

She exhaled deeply, heavily. Her fingers stretched out, uncurled, and she felt a little like she was letting Ryuji slip through her fingers. It had always been that feeling – the loss, the emptiness, the vastness of the world without him to support her – that made her panic when it came to letting go.

The emptiness lasted until Shizuo slipped his hand into hers.

"If your hands are full with the past, there's no room to grab onto things in the future."

"What?" Hikari glanced at Shizuo, wondering how he could read her mind.

"…Nothing. Just something Ryuji once said to me." He admitted gruffly.

"Oh." She didn't mean to sound as hoarse as she did. Her throat felt dry, her eyes burning.

Shizuo glanced down, and because the wind was still for the moment, wondered what excuse she'd use this time to pretend she wasn't crying. At least, that was what he expected; certainly not for Hikari to wipe at her eyes, to acknowledge her tears as she whispered, "I hate crying in public."

He let his thumb brush over her knuckles, readjusting the arrangement of their fingers. "It's just you and me here." He assured.

She glanced up, smiling with bitter sweetness. "Yeah, I guess that's fine then."

He shrugged, looking away because she was a woman with a very nice smile. He dropped the cigarette on the concrete strip around Ryuji's headstone, and crushed the butt under his foot. They might not have flowers for him, but at least he would appreciate the smoking.

"Going?" Shizuo asked.

Hikari took those first few steps away from the grave, pulling him along afterwards. "Going," she agreed, taking a deep, steadying breath, "We might have to hurry to catch the train."

If they didn't, it would be a while before the next trip back into Ikebukuro from the more rural suburb – the Shibatas' hometown – they were in right now. They hurried along the rows of graves, doing their best to avoid walking over anyone. Shizuo walked stiffly, and Hikari, even in heels, moved gracefully and carried herself confidently. Even though they held hands, Shizuo was a step behind her as the exited the cemetery and made their way through the suburban streets and back to the train station.

He liked watching her shoulders move, her hips swaying, her legs moved underneath the tight, black skirt. She was definitely a model, and more than definitely attractive. When Shizuo finally accepted hand-holding in public – which had only been this morning, a little over a week since Tatsuo Sawamura had been killed – it was only to let everyone know that Hikari was physically, emotionally, and sexually unavailable to everyone but himself.

As they walked, stopping at the last set of traffic lights before the station on the other side of the street, Shizuo finally remembered to ask, "By the way, who was that calling you?"

"Guess." Hikari looked back teasingly.

"…Ishikawa?"

She nodded, grinning. The light turned green for them. "Since I missed our last meeting, I'm rescheduling."

"Uhuh." He said, wondering how intrusive he was allowed to be. She was touching upon the subject of her future, but was her future any of his business?

"Although I do think he should really be investing in better clients than me, I'm not ready to drop him as my manager just yet," Hikari explained, "I'm thinking about getting back into modelling."

"Do the gravure stuff again," Shizuo suggested suddenly, "And see if you can keep the underwear they put you in."

His voice was lower as the entered onto the modern, concrete platform, surrounded by a few other travellers into Ikebukuro. A screen hanging overhead said the train was one minute away.

Hikari laughed, her free hand over her mouth as if that stopped the giggles. "They wouldn't let me," she replied coolly, "Besides, I also want to seek out opportunities to get me on the other side of the camera, as well."

Shizuo shrugged off his disappointment. He was glad that Hikari was telling him this, glad that she wanted to take on new things in life.

She pulled on his hand, waiting until the crowd around the two of them were distracted by the train pulling up. As the brakes squeaked, she leaned in to Shizuo to whisper in confidence, "But still, me wearing lingerie can be arranged."

He pretended he didn't care, that getting the two of them onto the train and finding a seat was much more important, but she caught the way his eyes lit up as he glanced towards her surreptitiously.

Chatter filled the carriage of the train, and Shizuo managed to snag two of the last seats for them. No one really wanted to challenge a bartender with bleach-blonde hair for a seat on the train, even despite the crowd. Given this station was the last stop before Ikebukuro, where a large portion of travellers were sure to get off, it was no surprise to find the place overrun with travellers.

Though at first, Hikari sat close to Shizuo, thigh to thigh, she jumped up at the sight of an elderly woman struggling to get through the crowd with her walking stick.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!" Hikari tapped the older woman lightly on the shoulder, drawing her attention, "Would you like to take my seat? You'll get a wonderful seat buddy," she pointed to Shizuo and grinned brightly, "Well, he isn't much for talk, but he's good to look at, right?"

The older woman smiled back, wrinkles gathering at the corners of her lips and eyes. "Dear, thank you very much. You don't mind?"

Hikari shook her head, already grabbing onto one of the handles that hung down for standing passengers. With mutual agreement, the elderly woman took the vacant seat next to Shizuo. She smiled across at him, and he managed a sort of weak, half-smile back at her.

The train lurched forward, pitching the passengers backwards for a moment.

"Thank you," the woman said to the both of them, glancing between them, "When you get to my age, it's not as easy to get around as it once was. You're very kind."

"When she wants to be." Shizuo muttered.

"And never to him." Hikari added to the old woman, who chuckled.

"Well my, that's just going to make it a lot easier for some other woman to steal him away," She patted Shizuo's knee, and he stiffened, glaring at Hikari for putting him in this predicament, "Why, if I were fifty years younger…"

"I bet you just had them lining up for you," Hikari agreed cheerfully, feeling generally delighted by a fulfilling conversation, "You have a really nice smile, if you don't mind me saying."

The woman smiled bashfully, touching her cheek with the hand not curled around the walking stick. "No one's said that to me in a while…"

"It's true." Hikari insisted flippantly. Good or bad, there was a newly-discovered _something_ about having the freedom to say exactly what she thought.

"Well, thank you."

The woman sat in silence for a while, smiling to herself. Shizuo stared out the window at the city lights and sunset passing by, and Hikari watched him carefully. She hoped that, just as he promised to stick by her, he wouldn't mind if she did the same. Ikebukuro was Ryuji's home, and her home now as well. With no police coming after her with murder charges – perhaps the Sawamura family had buried the scandal without remorse for their lost son, perhaps Izaya Orihara had decided to repay Hikari for entertaining him – and with the murder weapon tucked safely away in her bedside drawer, there was no immediate threat to this new life of hers.

An automated, female voice echoed through the loudspeakers; "Now arriving at; Ikebukuro Station."

Shizuo almost jumped from his seat before the train had even pulled to a stop. Hikari smiled at him, swaying with the train, steady only because Shizuo offered his arm to her. Though the bruises on her arm were fading, his actions still deliberately and consciously avoided any chance of repeating the incident.

The doors opened and Hikari glanced towards the old woman once more, smiling. "It was nice to meet you."

"Same to you, dear," she replied kindly, "Have a good evening!"

Hikari nodded, waving as Shizuo nudged her gently towards the exit. She followed his jump from the carriage to the platform, as well as the path cut by his tall figure through the crowd. She kept close to avoid separation, even though the only way to go was up and out. Ikebukuro streets were waiting.

As Shizuo avoided her gaze and didn't offer his hand to her, she asked, "Are you annoyed?"

"Not at you," he shouldered his way out of the crowded station, "She didn't take her hand off me that whole time, you know."

Hikari laughed suddenly, without meaning to. Catching his glare as she fell in step, she replied lightly, "Well, give me a few moments alone with you tonight, and you'll forget all about it."

He snorted, shrugged, and glanced around at the sunset skies over Ikebukuro's bustling streets. "Speaking of, are you coming to mine tonight?" Shizuo paused a moment, wondering if there was something more that, as a man, he should say to her, as a woman, "…I could order something for tea, and we could make it our second date."

"Shizuo…" Neither wanted to repeat the misunderstandings of their first date, "Are you asking me out? Properly?"

"…Yeah."

"Okay," Hikari was grinning one moment, only to freeze up as she recalled a sudden something, "But not okay – just yet, at least. There's something I need to say…something you need to know, first."

Shizuo thought about how this might play out and all he could think of was Tatsuo Sawamura and the grave of Ryuji Shibata. He wasn't particularly fond of Hikari's secrets.

"No," he replied quickly, "Don't say it."

His footsteps quickened and Hikari was skipping to keep up with him, zigzagging her way down the sidewalk. The air was crisp and cool against her cheeks, her heels dodging squashed cigarettes.

"It's important." She insisted.

"Don't say it."

"Shizuo, come on-!"

She reached out, grabbed his hand, and tugged sharply. Though he was infamously immoveable, he still moved for her and the two of them stumbled into a tall brick alley like the one Hikari had once been attacked in; on two separate occasions, as it were.

Hikari spun around to face him, green eyes glittering with a reflection of the lights over Shizuo's shoulder. "Stop being a baby," she chastised, "Just…can you just, ah, just listen to what I have to say?"

He crossed his arms and stared down at her inexpressibly. "I've never liked anything you've ever said after a sentence like that."

"Well, that's true," she laughed lightly, though the wounds were raw.

Shizuo's brows rose, and he slipped his sunglasses off so she could see just how sceptical he was. He tried not to think about how much he liked her laughter, her rosy cheeks and dimples, which left him with only just enough room for sombreness.

"Sorry, it's too soon to joke about what happened," Hikari blew strands of hair from her lips, "Well? You look serious; does that mean you'll listen?"

"…If I don't like what I hear, I'm just gonna pretend you didn't say anything."

"That's fair." Hikari glanced at him, sharp green eyes that softened and then darted away. She licked her lips. "Maybe you're too serious about this." She muttered.

Shizuo shifted his weight, though the alley wasn't quite roomy enough to move around in. "You said before that it was important."

"Yes, yes, but it's an easier thing to say if you act like you don't care about…about what I, um…"

"Are you nervous?"

Hikari winced – that was definitely hitting the nail on the head. "No." she said.

Shizuo was familiar enough with her ways to realise she was lying blatantly. He smiled a little, shoulders relaxing. "You are." He thought it was cute, the way she fidgeted on the spot and her cheeks began to glow red.

Her fingers were shoved into her pocket, pulling out her phone casually. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, nose turned up haughtily, Hikari stubbornly said, "Well, that's your fault! I don't wanna say it now."

"What-?"

Shizuo's phone chimed, the first three notes, and Hikari burst out laughing. "You big, fat liar!" she blurted out, doubling over, "You said Tom was the one with the Shoko Setsuya ringtone!"

"Shut up," he glowered, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the new message, "…Hikari, why the fuck did you just text me?"

All at once stifling her giggles, and all at once turning redder than she ever had yet, she answered, "Well, I didn't wanna say it out aloud."

She turned to the wall, stared at the graffiti. From the corner of her eye, she watched Shizuo look at her with a disbelieving expression, and then to the phone in his hand. His eyes grew wide, his lips opening slightly, losing breath, forming a soft, " _Oh_."

Hikari still had her messages open on her own phone, just for one moment before she shoved it back in her pocket. The name of the recipient was one _Shizuo Heiwajima_ – she had yet to think of a suitable nickname for his contact – and the text sent from her to him most recently was four characters long; _I love you_.

Shizuo took two steps forward and it was enough to close the distance. "Hikari." he leaned down, and she turned towards him. When she looked at him, he realised he didn't have anything to say.

"It's okay," Hikari said, "Just kiss me."

He leant in without touching her. She took it upon herself to reach up, fingers curling into the sleeves of his shirt as she made sure that it was a kiss on the lips and not some cheap cop out. With the way Shizuo made her feel, however, even a kiss on the cheek was worth more than anything to her.

Shizuo's expression didn't change as he pulled away slowly, and he certainly didn't budge from his spot until the very last moment. The only way to tell that he was nervous at all was in the way he jerked himself back around, walking stiffly out of the alley and back onto the street. He almost lost himself in the crowd before remembering to slow his steps just enough for Hikari to catch up.

Sunsets and neon lights filled the skyline and she fell in step with him a moment later.

"So, what do you want for tea?" Shizuo asked, warming to the strangeness of their new relationship.

She bit her lip, glanced around. "Hm, well, it's a nice night. What about eating out instead of ordering in?"

"Do you have some place in mind?"

Hikari was smiling brightly as she answered, "Russia Sushi?"

He pretended to consider it. "That sounds fine." Anywhere with her was fine, really; he was just a little too shy to add that just yet.

But she knew what he meant without Shizuo even saying it. She took a deep breath, lungs full of cigarette smoke and Ikebukuro streets, and Hikari felt more alive than she had in years as his fingers brushed so gently against the bruises on her knuckles that she forgot they were ever even there.

* * *

 **I'm a sucker for romance, so I had to include a taste of the traditional 'I love you's, but I didn't think it realistic, nor in style with the rest of the story, for it to be super, super explicit and full of commitment and drama and fanfare; all that stuff. The events of the story transpired to recently (according to the story's timeline), and in Shizuo's case, love is far, far away for someone like him. It felt forced to have him say it when, truthfully, this story ends when the two are just beginning to test the waters of a proper relationship.**

 **I have been tossing around some ideas for a sequel. I've never written a sequel before. It might not even happen because I'm more talk than anything else. We'll see when the next season of 'Durarara!' comes out, if my inspiration flares again.**

 **I don't really have anything else to add that hasn't been said before. Thank you for favouriting, following, reviewing (especially the reviewing; I love all of you who did so before I finished this story, and for those who might come afterwards), and thank you for reading.**

 ** _end._**


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